


Twice

by intothewind



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Cheating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism, it's more like punk rock though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:26:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 101,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10573152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothewind/pseuds/intothewind
Summary: “I told them we were dating, so they’d let me in their band.” Jonas states, shrugging his shoulders like it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world.Or Even’s in a punk rock band and Isak hates cliches, but sometimes basements and backseats are a good place to fall in love.





	1. In or Out

Like most things, this is all Jonas’s fault.

 

It all started with that stupid flyer hanging on the bulletin board at Isak’s job that suddenly triggered Jonas sudden obsession with the drums. Of all things for Jonas to gain interest in, Isak doesn’t know why it has to be something so loud.

 

At first, Isak didn’t take it seriously, Jonas did that sometimes. Picked up a hobby, just to drop it a few days later. But when Jonas spent his entire paycheck on a set of second-hand drums is when Isak knew he wasn’t messing around.

 

It wasn’t like Isak wasn’t happy that his friend was finally doing something other than getting high at the skatepark, but it wasn’t like their  apartment was exactly drum proof either. Sure, he invested in a pair of heavy duty earplugs, but that didn’t mean their neighbors did too. Isak doesn’t know how many times  they’ve come pounding at their door complaining about the noise. Jonas may be okay with the sharp looks from the elderly couple who lives next to them, but Isak doesn’t know how many more times he can apologize to them when they come yelling at his door. He also doesn't know how much longer Jonas can keep using their living room as a practice studio until he finally moves out or until their landlord finally kicks them out.

 

So, in hindsight, Isak wishes he never let Jonas get those stupid drums. And Isak really wishes he hadn’t let his friend talk him into this.

 

“You told them _what_?” Isak shrieks staring at him in disbelief.

 

He doesn’t care that people have begun to stare at him as he yells at Jonas from behind the counter. He’s also grateful that it’s a wednesday afternoon so the shop is nearly empty.

 

“Isak.” Jonas groans. He’s already explained it to his friend three times, but to be fair, he’s having trouble believing it himself.

 

“I told them we were dating, so they’d let me in their band.”Jonas states, shrugging his shoulder like it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world.

 

“What the fuck?” Isak finally sighs, “why?”

 

“They asked if you were my boyfriend.”

 

“And you couldn’t say no?” Isak scowls, his voice louder than it needs to be.

 

Jonas looks around at the audience they're starting to attract, not that Isak cares about that right now. Jonas leans forwards onto the counter, he looks genuinely sincere.

 

“I tried to” he defends himself, “But then Noora went on about how that would be good for the image and representation in the band.”

 

“And you’re not offended that they only let you in because they think you’re gay?”

 

Jonas shakes his head, “I think of it more as leverage. And it doesn’t matter anyway because it worked--I’m in!”

 

Isak rolls eyes only vaguely happy that his friend got into the one band he’s been following (and forcing Isak along with) to every half-filled venue and crammed basement in the city.

 

“There’s only one problem,” Isak reminds him, “you’re not even gay.”

 

“How hard can it be?” Jonas shrugs, a smile pulled across his lips, “I’m with you all the time anyway, and we live together.” Jonas begins to list, “ _And_ it’s not like people haven’t thought we were dating before.”

 

Jonas’ eyebrows raise as he pokes at Isak’'s cheek with one of his drumsticks. Isak smacks it away trying not laugh.

 

“It’s only for a couple months, and then we’ll break up or something.”Jonas explains, “I’ll even let you decide how.”

 

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

 

Jonas nods, “it’s all I want.”

 

Isak groans throwing his head back, when he speaks he instantly regrets his words, “Fine,” he gives in, “I’ll do it.”

 

Despite the counter separating them, Jonas throws himself on Isak for a hug. He pulls his friend into his chest so tight Isak can’t breathe.

 

“I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”Jonas jokes as Isak tries to push him away.

 

“I hate you.” Isak blushes readjusting the apron ties around his waist.

 

Jonas laughs sticking his sticks back into his bag, “see you at home, then, _baby_.”

 

Isak squeals, face flushing red, “fuck off.”

 

Before Jonas leaves, he winks at his friend one last time. Isak buries his face in his hands trying to hide his embarrassment.

 

It’s settled, he’s moving out.

 

***

 

When the first day of band practice comes, Isak has to hold his tongue. Sure, it’s only in someone’s basement that probably has no air conditioning on one of the hottest days of the year, but that doesn’t mean Jonas doesn’t spend over an hour getting dressed for it. He seems more excited about this then he did their first day of Uni.

 

“How about this?”Jonas asks as he walks out from the bathroom wearing another ripped tee shirt from a band that Isak has never heard of.

 

Without even glancing in Jonas’ direction, Isak speaks, “It looks good. they’ll like it.”

 

In the last hour Jonas has gone through half of his own wardrobe (and half of Isak’s) trying to find something to impress his future bandmates. After the third outfit change, Isak has given up. Each of the outfits would do, but Jonas is too nervous to sit still.

 

“Isak.”Jonas yells in frustration

 

Isak forces his eyes away from his aimless social media scrolling to look at his friend. He’s got on dark skinny jeans with holes in the knees. He’s wearing his old pair of high-top converse that Isak’s always trying to get him to throw away.Yet,  Jonas always refuses claiming they fit the entire punk aesthetic. It’s paired with a faded white band t-shirt that has small holes that Isak can’t differentiate from age or style. Either way he looks the part.

 

“Jonas, they don’t care about what you wear for practice.” Isak reminds him pulling himself up from the couch.

 

“It’s 4:15 anyway, we have to go if you don’t want to be late.”

 

If Isak would have known that’s all it would have taken to end Jona’s dress rehearsal, he would have said it a lot faster. Because Jonas is immediately  rushing with his drum cases out of the door.

 

It’s a struggle getting Jonas’ drum kit down the three flight of stairs, and it’s even harder getting everything to fit in the back seat of Jonas’ station wagon. Especially with Jonas yelling at him every time he moves something. It’s not like the drums aren’t already covered in scratches and chips, but Jonas insists on treating them like they’re brand fucking new.

 

When they finally arrive it’s at a loft building somewhere in the middle of town with no parking lot. When they have to make two trips across the busy street, Isak almost just leaves them right in the middle of the road. And he would if Jonas wasn’t yelling at him to “GO!”

 

When Isak brings the rest of the equipment in, he notices that all the anxiety Jonas was feeling prior seems to have disappeared. He’s already pulling open his cases, letting the rest of his bandmates help him set it up. They’re too busy plugging things into stereos and tuning their instruments to notice Isak standing there in the doorway.

 

It’s then that Isak notices how much Jonas fits in and how much he stands out. It’s different from watching them on stage to actually being at their band rehearsal. He can vaguely remember them from the countless of their concerts Jonas as forced him to go to, but to be fair, he spends those nights too drunk to remember anything anyway.

 

First, there’s the blonde. Well, she was blonde until a couple weeks ago. Before the tips of her short blonde hair were dyed a soft pink. Between that, the dark red lipstick, the heavy combat boots laced past her ankles and the dark jeans with more rips than fabric, she’s hard to forget. She’s behind an electronic keyboards that Isak assumes she plays.

 

The boy next to her is dressed similar. White paint splattered on torn jeans and a pair of vans that Isak is sure Jonas owns too. However, he feels a little bit at ease when he sees the girl with the bass. Isak’s not sure what she’s wearing, but the material is a grey-pink that looks plastic and shiny.

 

He’s ready to slip out the door and back into the familiar safety of Jonas’ car until Jonas call him over. Isak doesn’t know why it takes him by surprise when Jonas' hand wraps around his shoulder. It’s not like they haven’t been in this position a million times before, but with everyone looking at him as Jonas pulls him into his side, it’s different.

 

“This is Isak.”is how Jonas introduces him.

 

“I’m Noora.”

 

“Chris.”

 

“Mahdi.”

 

They all say offering Isak a small wave.

 

“Even's our lead singer, but he’s late.” Noora explains.

 

“Like always.” Mahdi mutters strumming his guitar producing a crescendo of sounds that spill out the speakers.

 

“It’s probably Vilde's fault.” Chris shrugs her shoulder.

 

“They could have at least called and told us.” Noora huffs as she pulls at the dark nail varnish coating her nails

 

As they begin to talk about the setlist for their practice, Isak zones out. Jonas’s arm weighs heavily on his shoulders and the drum stick he’s clutching is so close to his cheek that if Isak moves it would poke him.

 

A few minutes later, they all hear them before they actually see them.

 

“It was Magnus’ fault, if he put the keys back where they’re suppose to be, this wouldn’t be happening.” He hears a girl argue.

 

“We would have been late anyway. Because _you_ slept through your alarm.” another person argues back.

 

“There, it’s settled: It’s both of your faults” someone new says as they all step through the door.

 

It’s then that Isak finally recognizes the last guy from the band. As much as he wants to hate the way he’s still wearing dark tinted sunglasses inside and a denim jacket despite how hot it is outside, Isak can’t. Especially not because of how good he looks in it.

 

“Jonas!” the lead boy yells, rushing toward to shake his hand.

 

“Nice of you two finally show up!” Jonas jokes as their hands unclasp.

 

The same boy laughs, shrugging off the denim jacket off. He’s left in a wrinkled t-shirt with a band Isak thinks he’s heard Jonas talk about.

 

“This your boy?” He asks next, slowly pulling off his dark shades and clipping them to the collar of his shirt.

 

“Isak.” he nods.

 

Even does the same, “Even.”

 

It’s while Even is still looking at him that Jonas’ hand moves to rest on the small of his back. Isak nearly jumps at the contact.

“Alright,” Isak says looking at Jonas, “I’ll see you after practice”

 

Although, he’s talking to Jonas, Even speaks up, “You’re not going to stay?” Even smiles, “You don’t wanna see your boy jam out with the best underground punk rock band in the city.”

 

Isak looks at Jonas for an excuse to let him leave, but instead he gets a “C’mon, babe. Stay for a little bit.”

 

Isak’s not sure if it’s the nickname or the pressure, but he gives in, moving toward the tattered sofa everyone else is sitting on.

 

The two people he heard arguing before introduce themselves as “Magnus” and “Vilde”. Apparently, Vilde's their manager, and Magnus is her assistant. However, Isak can’t help, but wonder how they gained those positions after arriving late for practice.

 

After Even quickly sets up his guitar and taps the microphone he’s standing in front of, the band starts to play. They’re music sounds vaguely familiar, but then again, Isak thinks all punk music sounds the same.

 

It’s difficult watching the band perform, because he has to remind himself to look at everyone else, no matter how much he was to watch Even. They’re a couple songs in when Magnus leans over in Isak’s ear, “Your boy's really good.”

 

Isak nods watching Jonas thrash around on the drums. He looks really happy, and Isak has never seen him this excited before.

 

“They all are.” Isak has to yell over the music so Magnus can hear them.

 

“What happened to their last drummer?”he asks.

 

“Sonja? She started her own band” Magnus answers, “But she still hangs around. I'll introduce you to her when she does. She’s Even's girlfriend.”

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Soundcheck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i just write josak fanfic????  
> song: Soundcheck by Catfish and the Bottlemen

 

It’s the night of Jonas’ first show and if Isak thought band practice was bad, this is actually a catastrophe. The date’s been circled heavily on their calendar for a month. Counting down the days only seems to make Jonas even more uptight. He stays up half the night practicing landing on the correct beats and timing the symbols and crescendos just right. At least that's what Jonas tells him as he bangs away on his drums. He's says a bunch more band things, but it all goes over Isak’s head. 

He has to admit, Jonas sounds good. A lot better than he did a couple of months ago when all he could do was over beat the “We Will Rock You” song with sloppy rhythms. Now, at least Isak recognizes the melody from practice. Although, it does help he’s begun to listen to some of the band’s music. Even's got a good voice. Isak thinks it sounds better live though.

 

The day before the show, Jonas stays up until 2 am running through the transition one last time, which inevitably means Isak stays up until 2 am too.

 

He finally gets Jonas to call it a night only after he threatens to break up with him. With heavy eyelids and a sweat streaked forehead, Jonas finally gives in.

 

***

 

**Jonas**

(3:15 pm)

you’re coming to the show tonight right???

 

**Isak**

(3:15 pm)

what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t

**Jonas**

(3:16 pm)

A very bad one

I put your name on the list for backstage

It starts at 9:30

 

**Isak**

(3:18 pm)

I’m off at 8

**Jonas**

(3:19)

I’ll pick you up there

We’re going early to set up

**Isak**

(3:20 pm)

ok

are you nervous?

**Jonas**

(3:21 pm)

Ask me again at 9:30

 

**Isak**

(3:22 pm)

bet

***

 

At 8:00 Isak is waiting outside on the sidewalk cursing himself that he didn’t bring a change of clothes. He smells like burnt coffee and whatever it was they were serving today. The sun has gone down, and the night wind blows harshly against his bare skin. A large white van pulls in front of him. He ignores it until the doors open. It’s practically spilling with bodies and instrument cases.

 

“Isak.” He hears Jonas call him from inside.

 

He takes a step forward looking in. He finds Jonas stuffed in the back seat next to girls he doesn’t recognize.

 

“Jump in.” Magnus tells him swinging the second door open.

 

“Where should I sit?” He asks noticing there are no empty spots left.

 

He’s not even sure he is going to be able to fit. There are so many people crammed into the seats that Isak doesn't know how the van is moving with all the weight.

 

“With Jonas” Magnus says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing.

 

As he’s inching his way through the backseat apologizing to everyone, he has to crawl over. He’s trying to avoid stepping on the strangers' feet while maintaining his balance as he pushes his way to Jonas. There’s already four people crammed in the back row he’s walking though, and he’s not sure where he is suppose to fit. He expects Jonas to squeeze over giving him at least a few inches of the spot next to him, but Jonas doesn’t do that. Instead, he readjusts himself, so he’s sitting flat with his legs parted. Isak’s cheeks flush red from the realization. He contemplating forcing his way out the car, but with everyone waiting for him to sit down, he’s already too embarrassed. Especially, when the door get slammed shut and the van jolts into motion throwing Isak into Jonas’ lap. He has to grab Jonas' thighs to steady himself as he’s thrown onto the boy.

 

Jonas looks smug as Isak has to settle down on his lap. His back is already pushed against Jonas’ chest, but Jonas takes it a step further when he decides to encircle his arms around Isak’s waist letting them cross and land in his lap, drum sticks still clutched in his palms.

 

Isak turns his head around ready to give Jonas a sharp look when Jonas leans forward pressing his lips to Isak. If it weren’t for Jonas’ hand cradling the back of neck, Isak would have pulled away, but Jonas’s grip is holding him into place.

 

It’s a quick peck that happens so fast Isak doesn’t actually think it did until Noora is yelling back at them, “Save the PDA for when we’re out of the van, please.”

 

A chorus of laughter and cheers fill the car, and Isak’s face stings as he hangs his head. He’s only met these people a couple of weeks ago and some of them he’s never meet at all. He doesn’t want their first impression of him to be this. Especially, since this is the first time Jonas has actually kissed him.  

 

Jonas doesn’t seem to react the same way. Isak can feel the vibrations from his laughter run through his back.

 

“You smell gross.” he complains pulling at Isak’s shirt, so that the already loose collar exposes more of the skin between the base of his neck and shoulder.

 

Jonas’ breath lands right below Isak’s ear. With that and new patch of skin showing, Isak pulls away from his friend’s hands.

 

“Shut up. ”Isak snaps back pushing his elbow back into Jonas’ ribs.

 

Unfortunately, Jonas pulls into himself from the pain pulling Isak further into his chest.

 

Isak squirms trying to untangle himself from Jonas’ grasp and put some space between Jonas’ groin and his ass. He eventually settles so that he’s sitting half on Jonas thighs and half on the seat between them. It’s not comfortable especially with Jonas’s hands still on his waist, but he tells himself  that it’s for Jonas, after all.

 

Luckily the drive is short and they run over no bumps. As everyone begins to pull themselves out of the van, Jonas catches Isak’s arm.

 

“That was okay, right” He whispers.

 

His voice is unsure and hesitant.

 

Isak nods, “next time, tell me first though.”

 

Jonas nods tapping at Isak’s side, gesturing him to get off.

 

The girls next to him have already gotten out, so the way out is a lot easier than the way in. Once they’re out, Isak’s hands are filled with their equipment. Everyone helps carry black cases in, he follows the line of people blindlessly into the back of the venue cradling a guitar case.

 

Isak sits next to the girls on the floor of the stage as the band sets up.

 

“So you’re boyfriends with the new drummer?” the girl begins.

 

Isak nods watching Jonas screw his kit together.

 

“I told you.” She says to the girl next to her giving the girl’s shoulder a small shove.

 

Isak's eyebrows furrow as he stares at the two girls.

 

“I’m Sana, Even's roommate.” She introduces herself, “Eva, here, didn’t believe me that the new drummer was gay.”

 

“Sana” he hears Eva squeal grabbing at her friend's arm, “Don’t introduce me to him like that.”

 

Isak laughs, “it’s okay, I get that a lot.”

 

“Your boyfriend's hot.” She says bluntly earning a gasp from her friend.

 

Isak can feel Jonas’ eyes on him, he must have heard Eva.

 

“He’s alright.” He says loud enough for Jonas to hear

 

Eva and Sana both laugh.

 

“Looks like Even has competition.”

 

“And Mahdi.” Sana adds.

 

“You should see all the girls _and boys_ that come up to them after shows” Eva goes on kicking her feet out from under her. She leans back on her palms letting her feet stretch in front of her.

 

“Isn’t that how you meet Even?” Sana rolls her eyes.

 

Eva’s mouth drops open, “It was strictly professional. I interviewed him for a piece I was writing.” She explains.

 

Sana's lips purse into a tight smirk, she raises one eyebrow and speaks, “right, Eva.”

 

“I was” her friend argues back, “And how was I suppose to know he was dating the drummer, anyway.”

 

This time Isak and Sana both laugh as Eva throws her face in her hands, “Okay, that’s it. I’m done talking. Someone else talk.”

 

On cue the manger of the bar enters the room, “Even” he calls out with his hands apart like he’s welcoming Even back.

 

“How’s everything coming along?” He yells out walking down through the tables filling the room.

 

When he gets on the stage, Even goes to shake his hand, “We’re almost ready for soundcheck. Thanks for having us again.”

 

The man shakes his head, stuffing his hand into his pockets, “No, no. I should be thanking you. We already have a line outside the place for you guys.”

 

“Really?” Even questions in disbelief.

 

“Yea, a few guys claiming they saw you a week ago and are tracking your guys’ tour .”

 

Isak watches Even's eyebrows rise, “are they still around back?” he asks.

 

“Yea, they've been there since you guys arrived.”

 

That’s all the man has to say before Even's jumping off the stage and disappearing through the back of the bar.

 

Noora moves up to take Even's place. She begins to talk about some of the legistics about the noise and the crowd, but after a few minutes Even walks back in grinning from ear to ear.

 

“We made it, guys.” He yells running to stage, laughing and clapping his hands, “we finally have returning fans.”

 

Everyone cheers. Isak looks to Jonas who’s too busy high fiving Even to notice him.

 

“So, how does it feel to be the boyfriend of the new drummer from the best up and coming punk band in the city?” Eva jokingly asks using her shoulder to nudge Isak’s.

 

All Isak can do is laugh and try not to blush. At the same time Jonas decides to catch his eye and throw him a wink. He’s clearly heard everything they’ve been saying. So, Isak rolls his eyes in response trying not to let it all got to Jonas’ head. That’s the last thing he needs.

 

***

 

Once they set up everything, the doors open. From behind the stage, they can hear people come in. The room seems to echo and they get to catch the audience's voices. Although, it sounds like one inaudible roar of voices. They all cram inside the ill-lit dressing room in the back. It’s really nothing, but a fluorescent lit room with an old sofa and a cracked mirror. But the way Noora uses it to fix her red lipstick makes it seem like something more.

 

At 9:15 is when everyone starts to get nervous. No one is actually sitting. They’re either anxiously pacing or alternating quickly from sitting to standing. Jonas is doing both. One moment he’s pushed against Isak on the couch, the next he’s pushing himself and going to talk to one of his band members. He’s about to leave Isak again, when Isak grabs his arms.

 

“Relax” Isak tells him, “you’re even making me nervous.”

 

Jonas chuckles unevenly. Nonetheless, he stays seated, but has opted to bouncing his leg up and down while tapping his drumstick on his knee.

 

“I don’t think I can go out there.” He finally admits staring off toward the wall that’s separating them from the stage.

 

Isak readjusts himself so he’s facing his friend, “are you kidding me?”

 

Jonas shakes his head, “I’m serious.”

 

“You’re going to waste months of practice for a little stage fright?”Isak challenges him.

 

Jonas is the one turning to give him a looks this time, “a little? You try going out there in front all of them.” he scoffs.

 

“Jonas,” Isak begins placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, “this is what you signed up for, remember?”

 

“Yea, but I didn’t think it was gonna be..this intense.” He sighs.

 

“You’re going to do great. Plus, you’re just beating on metal, how bad can you mess up.” Isak teases.

 

It seems to work because Jonas’ mouth is tearing into a small smile.

 

“9:25” Chris calls out, “time for shots.”

 

Isak and Jonas stay on the couch confused as everyone begins to walk toward the center of the room.

 

“That includes you too.” Mahdi calls them out, beckoning them over with a jerk of his head.

 

Isak lets Jonas grab his hand as they walk toward the small circle forming in the middle. Noora hands everyone a red plastic cup filling it with an inch of vodka from a bottle she’s pulled out from her bag.

 

Everyone lifts their cups to cheer.

 

“Prost” they all say before they drain the alcohol in one gulp. There’s a collective exhale as everyone swallows the hard alcohol.

 

“What was that?” Jonas asks crushing the plastic cup in his hand.

 

“It’s cheers in german” Vilde answers.

 

“Why?”Jonas asks again.

 

“Because it better than just saying cheers.” Magnus explains shrugging his shoulders.

 

Jonas does the same bringing his arm to rest on Isak's shoulders.

 

“What time is it” He says in Isak’s ear.

 

Isak pulls out his phone showing the screen to Jonas; it reads 9:30.

 

“Are you nervous?” Isak finally asks.

 

As they begin to line up toward the door, Jonas smiles, “ask me after the show.”

 

Isak rolls his eyes stuffing his phone back into his pocket. Jonas begins to pull himself away when someone yells out to them

 

“C’mon, kiss your boy already, we have show to play.”

 

Isak doesn’t know who says it until he looks up and finds Even staring at them. At once, Jonas pushes himself forward cradling Isak’s face in his hands before he kisses him. With teeth clashing, Isak can taste the remnants of vodka on Jonas' lips. The angle’s weird and sloppy,  and most of Jonas' lips land on the corner of Isak’s mouth. Nonetheless, his lips are still wet and red when Jonas pulls away.

 

Jonas hugs him quickly, Isak only manages to whisper a breathy “good luck” before he’s pulling away and following them out.

 

Everyone walks behind the curtain to watch the show from aside. AS Even begins to talk, Isak tries to steady his breath. He tells himself that his beating heart is from Jonas’ second-hand stage fright and not that from the fact that he enjoyed that kiss a little too much.

 

***

 

The show goes great, and Jonas doesn’t mess up. And if he did, Isak couldn't tell. Between cheering along and snapping photos of Jonas, Isak really enjoyed himself. The crowd danced and jumped along, belting the words back at Even. Sure Isak can’t hear properly from standing so close to the speakers, but it was worth it.  After the last song, Jonas rushes in to him.

 

His shirt is damp and sweat is dripping from his front curls. Even his skin is coated in a layer of sweat. When he forces Isak into a hug, he pushes him off, “you’re all sweaty, don’t touch me.”

 

Jonas throws his head back laughing, drunk off the post-show high.

 

“Jonas, come take a picture.” Vilde has to yell over the noise.

 

Jonas holds onto Isak's hands as he walks toward his bandmates. He lets it go when they all pose in front of the brick wall.

 

Noora and Chris are centered in the middle, Jonas, Even and Mahdi are on the outside. Everyone throws a hand over the person’s next to them’s shoulder. They’re all shiny with sweat, and wild hair, but smile for the camera nonetheless. Isak takes a picture too knowing Jonas would probably kill him if he didn’t.

 

After a few flashes, everyone relaxes.

 

“Now you and Isak” Vilde says still holding the camera.

 

Bashfully, Isak goes to stand next to Jonas. Isak is expecting for Jonas to put an arm around his shoulder, he doesn’t expect the one going around his waist pulling him closer.

 

He forces himself to smile and not internally scream as Jonas’ fingers bury into the skin above his hip. The hand stays there even after Vilde lowers her camera.

 

“Paul said we could leave everything here, and pick it up tomorrow.” Magnus announces.

 

“Nice,” Mahdi grins, “now we can go straight to the party without dealing with them.”

 

“Party?” Jonas speaks up.

 

“Mahdi.” Noora scowls.

 

Jonas’' eyebrows are still furrowed as he waits for Noora to explains.

 

“We were planning on surprising you” She starts glaring at Mahdi.

 

“Sorry, bro.” He apologizes putting his hands up in.

 

“Tonight?”

 

“Yea, we planned it for after the show.” Chris nods.

 

“You up for it?”

 

Isak isn't sure the the question is directed at him until Jonas is squeezing his hip for an answer.

 

“yea,” Isak shrugs, “it’s your first show, we have to celebrate.”

 

  
“Let's do it, then!”

 

***

 

Even without the equipment the van is still crammed, and Isak finds himself on Jonas’ lap again. This time it’s not as uncomfortable. They drive to another bar that Isak’s never been to. There are people outside leaning against the brick wall smoking cigarettes when they pull up to it. The neon sign hanging on the front of the building is flickering. To say the least, this isn’t what Isak was expecting.

 

He still follows them in, Jonas' hand in his. It’s dark except for the strobe lights flashing the crowd. The music seems to be louder here than it was at the concert. They follow everyone to the back into a small room.

 

There are alcohol bottles covering the tables and a small cake. In sloppy purple icing it spells out “Welcome in the band.”

 

They immediately start drinking. Isak loses count of how many shots he’s done. He knows what ever his count is, Jonas’ is double it. Obviously, Jonas’s face is pushed into the cake when he goes to blow out the 1 candle sitting on top of the icing. Between the sweat, the cake and the alcohol, Jonas is a mess. Isak has to hold his chin just to keep him still enough to clean his face.

 

There are still licks of frosting near his ears and beginning to crust in his hair, but Jonas doesn’t seem to care as he’s pulling everyone out into the main room of the club. Isak’s eyes have to adjust to the dark lighting. His only sense of direction comes from Jonas’ grip on him. He’s never been one to dance, but he probably has more alcohol in him then blood right now. So, he doesn't let that stop him.

 

The club is full. He can’t move without touching someone. The air is heavy and humid weighing him down and clinging to his skin. Everyone he came with surrounds him. Magnus is dancing with Vilde. Sana is in between Noora and Eva. Even Even is alternating between his two groups of friends.

 

If Isak was sober he’d hate the song they're dancing to. But he’s had too many shots to care. There’s too much bass in this song that it vibrates the room, Isak can practically feel it vibrate through him. He’s dancing with Jonas. They’re close, but considering how crowded the room is, Isak’s surprised they're not closer. He’s more than content with the night continuing like this.

 

Except,  Jonas stretches his arms to pull Isak closer closing the gap between them. Isak lets Jonas turn him around so their bodies are aligned: Isak’s back to Jonas’s chest. Jonas is drunk, Isak can smell the alcohol he’s practically fuming with. He understands it’s the only reason why Jonas is trying to grind up against him in a dark club, but that doesn’t stop him from pushing back into it.

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows he should stop it and get Jonas home, but drunk Isak pushes those thoughts away.

 

Jonas hands are sitting on his waist moving his hips with his own. It's not as in sync with the music as they’d think, but Isak is grinding back just as much as Jonas is grinding forward. He’s moving his hips in a way that has Jonas widening his eyes and tightening his grip on the boy's waist.

 

“Isak” Jonas mumbles, breath hot over his ear.

 

His hand slides up from Isak’s hip to his stomach, and over his hips, gripping him firmly with both hands until he’s somehow established a rhythm. They’re swaying to the music in circles, and Isak feels like he’s on fire. He can’t do anything, but go along with the gentle rocking against the him.

 

“Fuck.” he whimpers throwing his head back so it lands on Jonas’ shoulder.

 

The song picks up in the chorus, rhythm a little faster, and so do Jonas' hips. They move along to what they’re hearing, thrusting with every drop of the bass. Isak turns his head around to look at Jonas’ face. He finds his eyes closed and his mouth parted. He’s absolutely sure that Jonas is going to kiss him when their eyes meet.

 

He tries to, even moves his head forward him and tilts it, but Isak notices Jonas’ dropping eyelids. He’s too drunk. He painfully pulls himself out of Jonas’ grasp and places Jonas’s hand over his shoulder. With the new position, Jonas takes it as a chance to bury his face in Isak’s neck. His noise pushed to into Isak's skin makes everything ten times more humid.

 

He begins to push his way through the corwd when a hand comes down on his shoulder. He looks up to find Even in front of him.

  
“Need some help?”

 

 

 

p.s this is what I imagine the band sounds like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0P1WIpgKqcA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also thank you for all the great comments!! they really motivated me too write/continue this! so what do you think about this???


	3. Sidewinder

“Stay right here. Don’t move.” Even tells him before he’s disappearing with Jonas in the sea of bodies.

 

He leans against the wall, waiting for Even to come back.  As his head rests against the cool brick, Isak tries not to let his eyes close. They’re way too heavy, and he’s way too drunk.

 

After what seems like a few second, someone's gently shaking his shoulder, “Isak. Let's go.”

 

He doesn’t need to be carried out the bar like Jonas, but when Even's hand settles in the center of his back, he doesn’t know if it’s that or the alcohol that makes his knees give out.

 

Even Immediately catches him. He quickly brings Isak in front of him, heavy hands slotted over his ribs. He lets Even usher him in the direction of the car and buckle him into the front seat. Jonas is sprawled out in the back. His eyes shut and his head tipping off the seat.

 

“Where am I taking you?” Even asks with both hands on the steering wheel. He Looks completely sober. And Isak can’t remember seeing him drink, aside from the one shot they took before the concert.

 

It takes him a minute before he gives Even their address, slurring the words together. He can feel his eyes threatening to close as Even drives them across town. The window is rolled down slightly, he thinks it’s sobering him up until they’re parked in the lot in front of their building.

 

Even manages to get Jonas up the stairs, telling Isak he’d come back to help him.

 

Even's stepping forward to help out the car, when Isak stops him, “I can walk.”

 

Isak doesn’t remember being this far off the ground. The jump from the van to the sidewalk seems a lot longer than it did before. And he must have pulled himself up too early because he can feel it can going to his head. The few moment before he’s bending over, the world looks like it’s spinning.

 

Before Even can move, Isak is falling forward clutching onto Even's shirt and vomiting on his feet.

 

“I’m sorry.” Isak immediately says, his voice hoarse, “I’m so sorry.”

 

He looks at Even who is starring back down at him. He feels a hand rubbing small circles into his back, as he’s still hunched over, staring at the pavement.

 

“Okay?” Even asks.

 

Isak nods using his sleeve to wipe his lips. He smiles lightly, it’s all he can do considering how gross he feels.

 

“C’mon, let's get you up to your room.” Is all Even says before he’s doing just that.

 

Once they’re inside, Even sits him in one of the stools in the kitchen. When he hands him a glass of water, Isak drinks the entire thing, and another.

 

Meanwhile, Even kicking off his shoes.

 

“Sorry about your shoes,” Isak apologizes, “and your shirt.”

 

Even looks down at them, wincing at the sight of vomit, “I never liked them anyway.”

 

With a simple shrug, Even is pulling off his shirt. Isak lets eyes trace the lines in Even's chest trailing down to where they tuck behind the waistband of his pants. He presses the glass of water to his lips and swallows.

 

“The bathroom’s down the hall.”

 

He follows Even into it, grabbing a towel from their laundry room for him.

 

“No offense,” Even starts, beginning to clean himself from Isak’s vomit, “but you’re kind of a lightweight.”

 

Isak leans onto the door frame, face pulled back in a mocking way, “me? I’m the best at holding my liquor.”

 

Even laughs, ringing the towel into the sink, “the best, huh?”

 

Isak nods, moving to sit on the bathroom sink.

 

“The best.”

 

Even matches his smile, “So you vomiting out everything you drank tonight is what? A way to get me shirtless then?” He jokes.

 

Isak blushes, actually blushes. He drops his eyes to his lap, feeling the heat of his cheeks from where they’re stretched into a smile.

 

Even gasps, loudly and dramatically, “What would your boyfriend think about that, Isak” he teases.

 

“It’s you fault,” Isak bursts out, “you guys got him drunk.”

 

“And you guys seemed to be enjoying it.”

 

Flashes of Jonas’ hands and his voice warm in Isak’s ear come back to him. That really happened. It makes him instantly turn red. He doesn’t even want to think about tomorrow morning when Jonas remembers it.

 

“Plus,” Even picks his sentence back up, “if you wanted to see me shirtless, there are a lot of easier ways than this.”

 

“But it worked didn’t it.” he says back, tilting his head just a little bit so his eyes match Events.

 

He watches Even's lips curl and follows his eyes as they glance down at his chest.

 

“I guess it did.”

 

His words come off so smooth, that for a moment Isak doesn’t even realize he’s flirting until Even adds a wink. Isak readjusts himself so he’s leaning forward enough that his hands can grip the marble counter top.

 

Those two glasses of water seem to sober him up and he’s glad they did because Isak knows that if he had Even shirtless in his bathroom staring at him like that while drunk, he’d be doing something a lot more foolish.

 

“You can borrow something of Jonas’” Isak suddenly says cutting the intense silence short.

 

He slides off the counter, letting Even follow him into Jonas’ closet. Even pulls on the first shirt he sees which so happens to be a shirt Jonas no longer wears. It’s something that’s two sizes too small for Jonas so, stretched over Even's broad shoulder, it looks obscene. Isak has to consciously keep himself from staring at the way Even's biceps strain against the fabric.

 

“Sorry about your clothes again.” Isak stutters.

 

“Or are you?” he says voice trailing with the quickest smirk.

 

Isak rolls his eyes struggling to hold back his own smile, “I don’t even want to tell Jonas I puked on his bandmate.” he winces imagining the conversation.

 

“What if I pick them back up tomorrow, vomit free.” Even offers, “then we can pretend like it never happened.”

 

“Deal.” he yawns.

 

With a nod, it’s settled.

 

“I’d let you borrow shoes, but I don’t think we have your gigantic size.” He teases with a glance down to Even's socked feet.

 

Even gasps staring down at his feet, “they’re relatively proportionate to my size.”

 

“I think I actually hate you.”Isak scoffs.

 

Even throws his head back to laugh, the small shirt pulls up showing a thin line of skin above the waistband of his pants.

 

“And everything we’ve been through?” Even exclaims placing a hand on his chest, “you break my heart, Isak.”

 

Isak laughs so hard he thinks he’s about to wake up Jonas.

 

“And you know what they say about “gigantic” feet.” Even quotes him, letting his voice go low.

 

He looks at Isak with an eyebrow raised.

 

“What?” Isak challenges him, “an inflated ego.”

 

A smile cracks on Even's face, although it hasn’t left him since he’s been here. He glances down staring at the pile of shoes in Jonas’ closet.

 

“He’s got pretty small feet, doesn’t he?” Even questions, too much inspiration in his tone.

 

Isak feels it all under his gaze.

 

“I guess your theory doesn’t work with everyone.”

 

Even's mouth drops open a little before he’s grinning, “fair enough.”

 

There’s a very quick moment of silence before Even breaks it.

 

“I should get going.” He says beginning to walk back toward the entrance.

 

Isak follows him out, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Even nods grabbing his keys off their table. As he’s closing the door he gives Isak one last smile, “Good night, Isak.”

 

“Good night.” he gives back.

 

***

 

“Isak!” He hears Jonas yell from his bedroom.

 

He ignores it the first time, choosing to hide under his duvet than face Jonas. He’s not as hungover as he knows Jonas is. It’s not until Jonas yells his name for the third time that Isak gets up stomping to his friends room. He finds Jonas still sprawled in bed. Last night's clothes discarded on the floor. He has his hands thrown over his eyes.

 

“I think I’m dying.”

 

“You made me come all the way here just to tell me that?”

 

Jonas removes his arm from over his face. He pulls himself onto his elbows, blanket falling lower on his chest and glares at Isak.

 

“I can’t remember anything from last night, how much did I drink?”

 

Isak has to keep himself from actually sighing in relief.

 

“You can’t remember anything?” He questions.

 

“Not after we entered that club. Everything after that goes,” Jonas groans tailing off, bringing a hand up to his eyes.

 

“Nothing happened.” Isak lies, “everyone just got drunk and then we all went home.”

 

Jonas nods accepting the story without any rejection. He lets himself fall back onto the bed. It only take Isak a minute before he’s moving to join him.

 

“You were really good last night.” Isak tells him, “it was a really good concert.”

 

Jonas instantly turns and looks at him, a lazy smile on his face, “you think?”

 

Isak nods, “at least, better than the ones you put on in your living room.”

 

Jonas laughs, but instantly regrets it, “I don’t think I can play for at least a week.”

 

Isak rolls his eyes knowing Jonas will be beating his drums away by noon, hungover or not.

 

“Anyway,” Isak coughs pulling himself out of Jonas’ bed, “I have work in an hour.”

 

Jonas scoffs, pulling the covers back over his face, “that’s why I’m in band,” he mumbles stuffing his face back into his pillow, “so I don’t have to work.”

 

Isak flips him off before slamming his bedroom door. When he hears Jonas scream his name, he laughs. An hour later, Isak is stuffing Even's (clean) shoes and shirt into his backpack. He hears Jonas come out of the room just as he's about to walk out the door. 

 

“Why do I have frosting in my hair?” Jonas asks uncoiling his curls that are tangled with dried icing.

 

Isak laughs, walking out the door, “Check you instagram.”

 

***

**Isak**

(12:30pm)

Hey, this is Isak. I got your number from Jonas.

I have your stuff, but I’m at work.

**Even**

(12:31 pm)

Aw thanks. How nice of you

Is it the place we picked you up at yesterday?

**Isak**

(12:33 pm)

yea  anytime before 5 works for me

**Even**

(12:34)

I’ll be there at 3

Thanks

**Isak**

(12:37)

Thanks for letting me puke on you

Lol

**Even**

(12:35)

Anytime, Isak!

 

***

 

The hours seem to cruelly race by. Saturday morning are always so busy. He’s so busy rushing around trying to finish orders that he doesn’t even notice it’s Even at the counter.

 

“Can I get your order?” Isak asks without looking looking up as he’s pouring coffee beans into the machine.

 

“Can I get a pair of vomitless shoes, an equally as clean shirt and a Red eye with drip coffee.”

 

At that, Isak automatically looks up.

 

Even smiles, “Hello.”

 

“Hi.” Isak returns it.

 

“Busy?” He says looking around at the crowded place.

 

“It's summer who even drinks coffee.” Isak rolls his eyes drying his hands on the apron tied around him.

 

“Hipsters.” Even shrugs.

 

“Fucking hipsters.” Isak curses.

 

“Fucking hipsters.” Even repeats, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

“I’m about to go on break,” Isak tells him, “let me buy you coffee.”

 

“As long as you promise not to throw up on me again?” Even teases.

 

“No promises.”

 

“Alright.”

 

He finishes the orders for the rest of the people in line and Even's order before he lets himself go sit with him.

 

“You know this can kill you right?” Isak says as he places Even's drink in front of him.

 

“So can that,” Even retorts pointing to Isak’s double espresso. 

 

“Yea, but I work here, so I’m immune to it."

 

“Let's hope you can handle your coffee, better than you handle your liquor.”

 

Isak squeals, and takes a sip just for show. Evens eyebrows raise in a mocking powerful way, “maybe you _are_ the best.”

 

“I told you.”

 

He goes to take another, but he drinks it wrong and it hits the back of his throat sharply. He begins coughing, trying to breathe. Meanwhile, Even laughing at his expense.

 

“You truly _are_ the best.”He says sarcastically before taking a sip of his own drink.

 

“shut” Isak coughs, “up.”

 

Even reaches over clapping a hand on his back.

 

“Alright?” he asks letting his hand rest there.

 

Isak nods trying to remember how to breathe. Even lets his hand rest on his shoulder for a few minutes longer until he gives it a tight squeeze.

 

“Can’t let you die, Jonas wouldn't forgive me.”

 

At the mention of Jonas’ name, Isak immediately shrugs Even's hand off him.

 

“Jonas” Isak repeats, like it’s a reminder, “Jonas was really excited to play last night.”

 

Even pulls his hands away placing them back around his cup, “He’s really good. We're all glad he's in the band.”

 

“So is he.”

 

There's too much silence between them, that the inaudible mumbling from the tables around them emphasizes that.

 

“So, how long have you been together?”

 

“We've known each other since we were 15.”

 

“And you've been together since”

 

“No, we've only been together recently,” Isak nods, “What about you?”

 

“Sonja” Even confirms, “we've been together for four years.

 

“Wow.”

 

Even nods in agreement.

 

“Since you started the band?”

 

“After.”

 

“and you've always wanted to be a band.”

 

“No,” Even laughs, “I was in school for a while.”

 

“What happened”

 

“Just wasn't for me. I hated sitting in on lectures all the time. I just felt like I was missing out on too much.” Even says it all a little too quickly, like he’s trying to prove something.

 

“And this is what you want to do now?”

 

“I do,” Even confidently says, “I don’t want to do anything else. I can’t see myself doing anything else”

 

The raw honesty in Even's voice makes him quiver. His generally brave demeanor seems to be forgotten as he stares at his fumbling hands.

 

“Well, you already look like a rockstar.” Isak admits.

 

“What?” Even laughs throwing his head back.

 

“Look at you.”

 

And Isak does just that. He takes in everything from Even's t-shirt stretched over his shoulders to the way his hair is pushed back and styled.

 

“You fit the entire, mysterious, hot punk band member.”He explains.

 

If Isak’s smile is big, Even's is bigger.

 

“Isak, did you just call me hot?”

 

Isak rolls his eyes, trying to cover his face with his hands, “that’s not what I meant.”

 

“So, are you staying I’m not hot then?” Even continues to tease him.

 

Isak squeals, feeling his face become too hot for his liking, “You just look,” Isak starts struggling to find the right words.

 

“You just look so cool.” He finishes, “you always look so cool.

 

It looks like Isak's comment has painted Even's cheeks with a soft blush.

 

“I do?” the disbelief in Even's voice surprises Isak.

 

“You do.” Isak reassures him.

 

He finally lets himself meet Even's eyes. When he does, he’s met with a soft smile. Not the smirk usually spread across Even's face.  He almost forgets he’s even at work until his co-worker is calling out to remind him his break’s over. He picks up their cups, but before he leaves, Even catches his wrist, “you coming to practice tonight?”

 

Isak shakes his head, but he doesn’t miss the Even's eyes tear away from his.

 

“I can take you, you’re off soon right?”

 

“I can go at 5.”

 

Even glances at his phone before answering, “that’s in two hour. I’ll just wait here.”

 

***

If the first three hours of Isak’s shift sped by, the last two crawl by. He spends the remaining hours alternating from trying to ignore Even's eyes on him to throwing him dramatic looks. Every so often he’ll look up and find Even's gaze waiting for him along with a smile and raised eyebrows.

 

After two (very long) hours, he’s tearing off his apron and quickly jumping into the passenger seat of Even's car.

 

**Jonas**

(5:03 pm)

Do you need me to pick you up for practice.

**Isak**

(5:04 pm)

It’s alright. I'll meet you there

**Jonas**

(5:05 pm)

Okay? See you there

 

Isak ignores the suspicion in the last text and focuses on Even struggling to find a radio station. He finally settles on a song Isak doesn’t now. Although, it’s heavy rap influence surprises him.

 

“Serious?” Isak laughs turning to look at him.

 

Even shrugs, “You don’t like Nas?”

 

“Oh,” Isak quickly tries to cover up, “I know Nas.”

 

Isak knows his lying is adequate by the way Even smiles, “Right. You’ve heard of his album, illmatic?”

 

Isak only nods.

 

“I’ll have to show you more of his stuff later,” He promises turning the radio up, “listen to it, you’ll like it.”

 

They sit in silence and let the song fill the car until they get to the loft.

 

Before they get out, Even turns to look at him, “he’s good, isn’t he?”

 

***

 

When Isak walks in, Jonas is smiling back at him, but when Even appears behind him, it’s replaced with a frown.

 

“Hey.” He greets Jonas placing a quick kiss on his lips.

 

“Hey,” Jonas says back with uncertainty in his voice that Isak ignores with another kiss.

 

“We’re all playing at a house party tonight.” Jonas informs him after Isak pulls away.

 

“Sounds fun,” is all Isak says before he hears Magnus yell "surprise!".

 

He turns around just in time to see another girl walk through the door. Isak doesn’t know who she is until she’s making her way to Even and cupping his face for a kiss.

 

Sonja.

 

That’s how she introduces herself to Isak as they sit on the couch watching the band warm up.

 

He forces a smile and speaks, “Isak.”

 

“You’re with the new drummer?” is her next question.

 

When Isak nods she smiles, “He’s good.”

 

Isak lets their conversation end just in time for Even to start singing. Even if Isak had more to say, it’d be covered by the loud speakers.

 

The practice seems to run exceptionally long especially with Even refusing to look at him. They practice a few new songs that Isak has never heard before. He tries to pay attention to the words, but Magnus is busy talking his ear off about the party tonight. Between that and trying to catch Even's eye, Isak’s ready to head back to their flat. Except, he finds himself once again thrown on Jonas’s laps as they’re driving to their next place.

 

He’s glaring at the back of Sonja’s head from where she sits laughing next to Even in the seat when Jones whispers in his ear, “you okay?”

 

His breath jolts Isak out of trance, “yea, long day at work.”

 

Jonas offers him a half small and a comforting hand on his back, “we can head home after we play, if you want?”

 

Isak shakes his head, refusing to let Even ruin their night, “I just need a drink, and then I'll be fine.”

 

“We can do that.”

 

***

 

They’re playing at Noora’s shared apartment. Apparently, it’s something they usually do. Or at least that’s what Vilde explains to them. When they walk in, the entire place is lit by fluorescent string lights hung on the walls. They're met by a loud crowd of cheers as they enter.

 

Isak meets Eskild first. He’s already drunk and kissing everyone who walks in on the cheek. Isak laughs when Jonas falls victim and Eskild hangs an arm around his shoulders.

 

“Noora, why didn’t you tell me your new band mate was so cute.” He whines making Jonas blush.

 

“Eskild, stop harassing Jonas.” Noora laughs, hooking up her piano board into the wall outlet.

 

Eskild frowns pursing his lips, “Jonas doesn’t mind, do you Jonas?”

 

Jonas shakes his head laughing, “I don’t, but my boyfriend might.”

 

The attention is thrown on Isak, especially when Eskild gaps loudly, “You two are dating?”

 

Jonas has managed to pry himself away from Eskild just to end up next to Isak.

 

“No fucking way?” He nearly shouts, a smile erupting on his face, “I fucking love this band.”

 

Jonas laughs giving Isak’s shoulder a small squeeze, “me too.”

 

***

 

Everyone crowds into the living room, and Isak is pushed way too close to the speakers that he can feel every vibration sent through them. They play songs from their practice session and as before Even won’t look at him. It’s even worse now because he can see him maintaining eye contact with her.

So, he spends the time trying to pretend like it doesn’t matter even though it feels like a stab to his back.

By the time the band finishes the set, Isak’s out of breathe and covered in sweat. Between the never empty cup of alcohol he’s been drinking and refilling, and the intensity of the music, he’s completely indulged in the night.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he notices, Jonas shirt is wet when he presses against him. Their chests flush together as Isak throws his hands behind his neck. He lets himself hang around Jonas' shoulder while he slams their mouths together for a teeth clashing kiss.

 

“Isak,” Jonas says breathlessly, trying to slow him down, as Isak tries to kiss him more, “how much have you had to drink?”

 

Isak is clinging to Jonas when he throws his head back laughing. All his weight is being supported by Jonas’ hands around his waist trying to keep them both from stumbling over.

 

“M'not drunk.” he mumbles against Jonas’s lips before he’s moving his own against them.

 

A  first, Jonas’ eyes open wide, but when he feels the warmth of Isak’s lips on his own, he flutters his eyes closed and deepens the kiss, putting his hands on Isak's back.

 

He feels Isak tongue poking at his lips for entrance. He keeps them closed offering closed mouth kisses, until Isak’s fingers thread through his hair. He gives them a soft tug that’s matched with a strangled groan.

 

Jonas pulls back, noticing Isak’s droopy eyelids fluttering open, bluntly staring at his lips.

 

It’s then that Isak notices they’re standing in the middle of a crowd of drunk strangers. Though everyone is too busy drinking and dancing to notice them anyway. There’s an opened place on the couch that Isak quickly pushes Jonas into.

 

“Isak.” Jonas exhales before Isak straddles his thighs and holds him down, reaching up under his arms and dragging his fingers across his skin until he can tangle his fingers through his hair.

 

Jonas whispers, “God, Isak,” sounding hoarse and overcome. He pulls him down into an open-mouthed kiss, soft lips and slick tongue and warm hands.

 

Isak can’t stop and think about what’s happening . The beer tasting roof of Jonas’s mouth is too distracting. That is until Jonas's slides his tongue against his, and then that's all Isak wants to think about. They kiss each other slowly at first, like they're still unsure if this should be happening. They're only touching with their hands and mouth, until Jonas sucks, pulling Isak’s tongue into his mouth and Isak moans into it.

Suddenly everything is way more intense and desperate and urgent. Jonas’s hands clutch him harder, trying to pull Isak closer to him. Jonas lets Isak tilt his head back further in the couch cushions, using the new angle to lick deeper into his mouth. It’s then that Isak feels Jonas’ hands on the patch of bare skin exposed from his shirt rising up. His calloused thumbs caressing the soft skin of his hip.

 

Somewhere in the background Isak can hear someone call their names, but he’s too consumed in Jonas’ grip to listen to it. It’s not until someone claps a hand on his shoulder do they pull part with identical red, swollen lips.

 

Isak looks up to see Eskild smiling at them, “c’mon lover boys, we’re playing spin the bottle and there’s no way you too aren’t going to be involved.”

 

Isak actually groans as he’s forced to pull himself off Jonas. He hadn’t realized how weak his knees had gone until Jonas is holding his hips for support. He knows his cheeks are red along with the skin around his mouth. And his hair must be sticking out in all directions, from Jonas' hands. And Isak knows, Jonas looks no better.

 

He hadn’t felt embarrassed until they join the circle and Even finally looks at him for the first time tonight. He has one arm around Sonja and a beer in the other.

 

Under his gaze, Isak squirms and buries his face into Jonas’ neck trying to hide from it.

 

“Okay, Vilde has to start first, since she finished the bottle.” Eskild explains tucking in between Eva and Magnus.

 

“Eskild.” Vilde giggles pulling her knees into her chest.

 

“I don’t make the rules.” Eskild says gesturing toward the empty vodka bottle in the middle.

 

After an over dramatic grunt, Vilde crawls forward and spins the bottle. The all watch, until it eventually settles on Magnus. Everyone cheers making Vilde roll her eyes as she presses her lips to Magnus’.

 

The game carries on. Sonja has to kiss Mahdi and Eskild plants a huge kiss on Jonas that makes Isak even blush. So far no one has landed on Isak, but to his luck, Even's the first one that does.

 

At first, Even laughs making things grow awkward. Isak thinks he’s going to opt out and take a shot until he surges forward gripping the front of Isak’s shirt. By his collar, he tugs Isak up against him. His breath is hot when it fans over Isak's lips before he closes the gap between them. It’s a hard, closed mouth kiss that still makes Isak shutter. Even's hand is gripping his neck holding him tightly enough to keep him in place. When he feels his hand disappear, Isak opens his eyes just in time to see Even back away.

 

He slumps back next to Jonas, darting his tongue across his lips. He keeps his eyes down on his lap unable to look at Even. Somehow this is worse than Even ignoring him all night. The game carries on, Mahdi has to kiss some girl Isak doesn’t recognize and Chris has to kiss Eva. Everyone is drunk and the game begins lose their interest quickly. It’s past 2 am when it finally ends.

 

Isak’s sharing a beer with Jonas before he's chugging the rest of it and stuffing the bottle on an overcrowded table. With his free hand he’s clutching Isak’s bringing them to the center of the dance floor.  

 

They're in the exact same position as the night before. Except, when Jonas moves froward to kiss him, Isak lets him. He's letting his eyes slip shut when he notices the pair of eyes glaring at him from across the room. 

 

As much as Isak wants to look away he can't. Not Even when Even deepens the kiss with Sonja or when Jonas pushes his tongue past his lips. He can't look away and neither can Even. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is going to be wild.  
> song: Sidewinder by Catfish and the Bottlemen


	4. Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not as "wild" as i hyped it up to be, because it got too long but more drama to come in the next chapter.  
> song: Business by by Catfish and the Bottlemen.

 

Sonja comes to the next practice session, and the one after that. She’s come three consecutive times before Isak realizes something isn’t right. She seems to dominate the session. Calling them out when they miss the beats or telling them to run it again even though they’ve played the same chorus six identical times. She’s scribbling over sheet music and rewriting lyrics. Everyone seems to be holding in a breathe. Isak notices it from where he’s sitting in front of the band watching it all happen in front of him.

 

Everyone's different. Vilde’s arriving on time and burying herself in filling in the empty weekends on their calendar. Mahdi’s no longer plucking his strings dramatically or adding unnecessary decrescendos to the end of the songs. Noora’s even just playing what’s written on the page. And Even seem to be tiptoeing around it all. Agreeing with the changes being made even if they aren’t necessarily the right ones.

 

Not to mention he's still ignoring Isak. Not that he minds especially since last night. But, Jonas seems to be the only one happy with her presence. Perhaps he’s too busy letting Sonja teach him how to roll his wrists and nail his rudiments to see how strange everything, but Isak isn’t.

 

“What’s going on?” he finally asks whispering in Magnus’ ear.

 

“This is how it usually goes when Sonja’s here.” he explains his voice no louder than Isak’s is.

 

“What do you mean when she’s here?”

“She tours for a couple months straight and then comes back to ruin all our lives while she’s on break.”

 

Isak covers his mouth, snickering into his palm.

 

“Why doesn’t anyone say anything to her?”

 

“We’ve tried that,” Magnus pauses when Sonja gestures for the music to stop.

 

She turns to glare at them. And Isak feels like he’s back in secondary school.

 

“These practices need to be start being closed,” She scoffs, “or we’re not going to get anything done with all these _distractions_.”

 

Her eyes narrow on Isak as she punctuates the last word.

 

“Don’t you think that’s what’s best for the band, Even.” She continues, looking at Even for support.

 

Isak does the same. She can’t kick him out, can she? However, Even only nods avoiding both of their eyes.

 

“Fine.” is all Isak says as he’s following Magnus out of the garage.

 

Half of him is waiting for Even or Jonas to stand up to her on their behalf, but nothing comes and they’re forced to wait outside in the parking lot.

 

“She can’t just do that?” Isak spits out kicking himself off the wall they were just standing against.

 

“She has a record deal and an album contract, so she can.”

“I thought she just left the band.”

 

“She did.”

Magnus must notice the confusion written across Isak's face because he steps forward rubbing his forehead.

 

“Look,” he begins, “Even doesn’t really like to talk about this, but since you’re probably going to find out anyway, I’ll just tell you.”

Magnus leads them behind the building where rain destroyed benches wait for them.

“Sonja used to be part of the band.”

 

Isak nods at the information, he knows that.

“One night they were playing at the venue uptown, when some guy from a label company came up them.” Magnus explains, “You already know this, but she played the drums, but she also was the backup vocalist.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Well this record label guy only wanted Even and Sonja, something about them fitting the scene of the “band mold” or whatever,” Magnus waves it off, “but Even didn’t want to just leave the rest of the band.”

 

“But Sonja did?”

Magnus shakes his head, “she signed the next day and they sit her up with a new band mandate and everything.”

“What did Even think about this?”

Magnus shrugs like he knows more than he’s letting on, “I mean, obviously, it crushed him.But honestly, I think he’s glad she’s gone.”

 

“Who wouldn’t be” Isak mutters under his breathe.

 

“You see how it is in there,” Magnus sighs, “it’s fucking intense. And no one can say anything, because even if it is from Sonja, we need all the help we can get.”

 

Isak shakes his head. He gets it.

“Is she even any good?”

Magnus’ shoulders rise before they fall and his head tilts slightly, “Even's better.”

 

***

 

When practice is over, everyone joins them outside. The tension seems to follow them in the parking lot.

“We’re heading to Eddy’s, you all are welcomed to come.” Sonja invites them, intertwining her hand with Even's.

Isak tries not to watch their fingers interlock as Jonas shuffles next to him. Everyone seems to be agreeing to go, Isak thinks it must be for Even's sake, but before Jonas can count himself in, Isak is interrupting him.

 

“We already have plans for tonight, remember Jonas?” Isak lies hoping Jonas catches on.

 

Judging by the way he squints at Isak, he must not.

 

“We do?”

“We do.” Isak repeats matching each word with a nod.

 

“Okay.” Jonas says slowly, not entirely sure what is going on.

 

“See you guys later.” Jonas says nonetheless letting Isak lead them to their car.

 

It’s not until they’re inside that Jonas turns to face him, “What was that?”

 

“You really wanted to spend the night with her?”

 

Jonas shrugs, “Yeah, she’s actually pretty cool. After you get passed, you know, all of that.”

 

“She literally kicked me out of the room, Jonas.”

 

“You two were making a lot of noise.”

 

Isak’s mouth drops at Jonas’ words. He crosses his arms, but doesn’t finish his thought. Even without it, Jonas knows he’s mad.

 

“C’mon, Isak, you know that’s not what I meant.”

Isak stays silent glaring out his window. He hears Jonas sigh as he turns the keys in ignition. It remains silent until they’re outside of their building.

 

“I'll buy you dinner, if you stop being mad at me.” Jonas tries to bribe him.

 

“And you have to apologize.” Isak adds with his back to Jonas still.

 

He doesn’t have to looks at Jonas to know he’s smiling, he can hear it in the way he responds back with a quick “deal!”

 

***

Like most mornings, Isak wakes up to the sound of drums. When he glances at the clock to realize it's only 10 am he's ready to yell at Jonas and threaten to destroy his drums. He comes out of his room, speech ready and fist raised, when he finds Even and Sonja in their living room. He doesn't know who he's more scared to gain eye contact with: Even or Sonja. So, he keeps his eyes on the floor as he waves a good bye to them out the door.

Apparently she’s due back on tour in a few days and won’t be able to practice with Jonas, who's dying to play with her, for a couple of months. At least that’s what Isak hears before he leaves their apartment. He knows no one believed him when he said he picked up an extra shift, but he doesn’t care.

 

He nearly forgets his phone as he rushes out the door trying to ignore Even in their living room. He decides to wait out at his coffee shop until he figures they've left. He spends a few hours mindlessly flipping through social media. He rolls his eyes at Jonas’ picture with Sonja tagged. He really wishes he hadn’t clicked on her profile because he finds himself clicking on Even's next. When he views the photo of Sonja on his profile, he shuts his phone off.

 

After a four hours and three cups of coffee later, Isak is catching the bus back to their flat. He figures they’ve left by now, so when he’s greeted by smell of marijuana when he enters the door, he doesn’t expect it be Even there alone with Jonas.

He lets his eyes linger on the clouds of smoke spilling from Even's mouth before Jonas is speaking to him.

 

“You’re back.” He lazily smiles, putting out his hand.

 

Isak lets his bag fall to the floor before he’s letting Jonas wrap his fingers around his wrist. He uses the leverage to pull Isak onto the floor between them. They’re smoking underneath the window letting the smoke follow the wind out.

 

He doesn’t realize Jonas is talking to him until he’s placing a hand on his waist.

 

“C’mere,” he says, his voice has gone all low from the weed and smoke.

He has to repeat it for Isak to finally move.

 

“C’mere, Isak,” he says again, hand trailing up Isak’s spine and grabbing his shoulder, tugging him up and over.

 

Jonas uncrosses his legs so he can sit in between them, cradled between Jonas’ bent knee and chest.

 

“Have fun at work?” Jonas asks bringing the joint past Isak’s face to put between his lips.

 

Isak nods watching the smoke disperse by the side of his face. He can feel the heat from the burning end on his cheek and the warmth from Jonas’ smoke on the back of his neck. Jonas’ hand goes over his shoulder when he passes the joint to him. Isak takes it, taking a hit. He watches the tip of the ember shrink as he inhales.

 

He leans further back on Jonas when his head tips back to exhale. He watches the smoke rise and fall until it disappears completely. He’s still holding the joint between his fingers staring up at the ceiling when he feels fingers meet his own. He looks to find them belonging to Even. His fingertips graze Isak’s knuckles as he takes the joint from them.

 

Even's eyes stay on his as he sucks the end, cheek hollowing with it. When he pulls it away, his lips seal until a few seconds later when he’s exhaling. The smoke rushes forward, Isak can feel its heat blanket his face.

 

“I hear if you shot gun, it makes you higher.” Jonas interrupts their eye connection.

 

“Really?”

 

Isak doesn’t have to look because he can feel Jonas’ head nod.

 

“Something about the smoke being filtered.” He continues

 

Isak doesn’t say anything in response, pulling his legs into his chest so his thigh is no longer touching Even's. He doesn’t realize how close they all are sitting until now. If he moved a few inches he’d be sitting half in Jonas’ lap, half in Even’s.

 

When Jonas moves, Isak moves with him. Isak lets Jonas twist him so his back is on his shoulder and not his chest. So, they’re more or less sitting next to each other, but Isak is still seated between his legs.

 

The joint passes to him and back to Jonas. He feels Jonas’s chest rise when he inhales. When it stills, Jonas’s hand is gripping the back of his neck moving his face closer to his. When he feels the need to exhale, Jonas leans into Isak’s space. With their eyes still open, he places his hand on Isak's face, fingers moving softly under Isak’s jaw. His thumb moves gently under Isak’s bottom lip. The tip of Jonas’s finger barely meets the edge of his lip when Jonas presses down, pulling Isak’s mouth open. He hovers his lips over Isak's mouth and blows the smoke into Isak, making his eyes fall slowly.

 

It been a while since Isak had last smokes, sometime before the semester ended, he thinks. But this, this something new. Between the warmth of Jonas’s hand still cradling his face and the smoke burning the back of his throat, Isak feels consumed by it. He feels the smoke drift from Jonas’ mouth into his but Jonas’ lips pressed firmly against his own so he doesn’t get to pull back. He breathes it in. When Jonas releases his face, Isak pulls back breathing out, trying to soothe the smoke crawling up his lungs. 

 

“What do you think?”

 

All can Isak can do is nod as he tries to steady his breathing. It doesn’t help that Jonas' fingers have found themselves at the base of his spine, playing with the tail of his shirt.

 

“Try it.”

 

Isak doesn’t realize the question is directed towards Even until Jonas is passing his bandmate the blunt. He doesn’t understand what Jonas means until the hand on the small of his back is pushing him forward towards Even. He meets Even halfway. Even's already leaning forward putting one hand where Jonas’ had just been.

 

The other settles under his chin tilting it up so he can blow into it. Isak moves forward, hands pushing off Jonas’s thighs so he can hoist himself closer to Even's face. He opens his mouth ready to breathe in whatever Even gives him. Even's mouth slots over his. Their lips aren’t touching, but the gap between them is small, the smoke even has a hard to time escaping. Some of it falls from the sides of their mouths and Isak can’t help, but release some through his nose. He doesn't know how he's managed to get some to pass between their mouths. It's like the're breathing the same air when they open their mouths wider.

 

Even's fingers slip through his hair angling his head so more of the smoke meets his lips. At the same time, Jonas’ finger push up Isak’s shirt, so he’s touching his bare skin.

 

Isak feels like he’s going to melt under it all until Even's hand fall from his face. Isak opens his eyes just in time to watch Even opens his. The smoke is gone, but the two sit with their faces right next to each other. Even tilts his head, eyes moving down to Isak’s parted lips. Isak wonders if he’s going to finally press them together, but then Even moves away, leaning back against the wall. Isak does the same, sinking into Jonas’ chest.

 

“It works, right?” the words vibrate through Jonas and into Isak.

 

His fingers are still tracing small designs on the small of his back. The contrast of Jonas' warm fingertips the cool air the lifted shirt exposes is enough to make Isak lean back into to.

“Yea.” is all Even says.

 

Isak almost gasps when Jonas’s hand push further up his shirt. His palm sits flat in the center of his back until it traces down the indent of his spine. Then, Jonas removes his hand, letting Isak’s shirt fall back into place.

 

“I’m so fucking high,” He laughs the words out, looking over at Even who is nodding.

 

“Me too.”

 

When they finally finish the joint, Isak’s eyelids feel heavy. Before he falls asleep on the sofa he can see Even exiting their apartment.

 

***

When Isak wakes it, it's dark out and his neck aches from the weird angle he has been sleeping on.

 

"Chinese is on its way" Jonas tells him before he places the headphones back over his ears. 

 

When it gets there, Jonas pulls away from his laptop and joins Isak on the couch. They browse for something they haven’t seen before, but nothing catches their attention. So an hour later, their take out is half eaten, forgotten on the coffee table, and it seems like nothing good is on.

 

“What about this?” Jonas asks settling on a channel.

 

“Seen it.” Isak sighs; they’ve been doing this for at least ten minutes.

 

“There’s nothing on then, that was the last channel.”

Isak groans, stretching his feet over the cushion so his toes tuck under Jonas’ thighs. He look a the clock hanging above their window.

 

“It’s only 9:30, we can’t call it a night.”

 

“What do you want to do then?”

 

“Wanna drink?”

 

After a moment of thought, Jonas shrugs, “Okay.”

 

***

 

They finish the bottle of cheap vodka they have on their kitchen counter and open the bottle of whiskey they have next to it. They take long gulps straight from the bottle before passing it between them.

They’re not as drunk as Isak wishes they could be when Jonas asks him what he asks about Even. Like he wasn't just millimeters from his lips this morning.  Isak shrugs the memory off, hiding behind the bottle of alcohol he has in his lap.

 

“He’s hot, right?” Jonas asks, voice low from the alcohol they've been burning their throats with.  


Isak blushed pulling his knees further into his chest, trying to cover himself with his bent knees.

 

“He’s your bandmate, Jonas.”

 

“Bullshit,” Jonas bursts out laughing, “if you saw him in a club or a party, or whatever, would you hit on him?”

"He has a girlfriend."

 

"What if he didn't?"

 

The question startles Isak especially the way Jonas is looking at him, waiting for his answer.

 

“I guess.” He admits quickly chasing it with a shot of alcohol.

 

Jonas squeaks throwing his head back to laugh, “I knew it!”

 

He tugs the bottle to his lips, Isak watches his throat moves as he swallows.

 

"What about me?" Jonas asks next. The words must come from the back of his throat, because they're deep and slow.

 

"What?"

 

"If you didn't know me, would you try to pick me up at a club?"

 

"You're not even gay."Isak says, but he's pretty sure it's not the first time the phrase has come out of his mouth this month.

 

"What if I was?"

 

Isak's face fumes especially under Jonas' gaze.

 

"I don't know, Jonas." He starts.

 

"C'mon, Isak just tell me."

 

"I would."

 

At that, one corner of Jonas' mouth rises into a smirk.

 

"I knew it." He mutters.

 

For a few minutes the only sounds in their apartments is the sound of gulping alcohol.

“It should be a lot weirder, shouldn't it?” Jonas asks licking the liquor from his lips.

 

Isak realizes it's the first time they've acknowledged anything.

 

“What?” he pretends like he doesn't know what Jonas is talking about. 

“Me and you. All of this.” He says using his fingers to point between them.

 

Isak only shrugs. _All of this_ repeats in his head. Images of dark night clubs, Even's hands on his face, and Jonas' lips on his own play in his mind.

 

 _all of this_.

 

“I mean, you’re _Isak_.” Jonas continues like he’s thinking aloud.

 

“Jonas” Isak warns, “you’re going to make it weird.”

 

“You’re right.” He sighs, “I don’t want to make it weird.”

 

They leave it at that, sharing the rest of the bottle before Isak’s sure they blackout.

 

***

 

It’s too fucking early, is the first thing Isak wants to scream when he finally wakes up. It’s too early for the sun to be in his eyes. It’s too early for the drumming in the living room to be happening. And it’s too early for Isak to try and figure out why he’s partially naked in Jonas’ bed.

 

He huffs and slams his feet onto the wooden planks, regretting it when the soles of his feet ache. To be fair, there isn’t anything on him that doesn’t. Between the weed and all the alcohol he had yesterday, he sure he’s still drunk when he stands up.

 

“Jonas,” he half groans, half yells trying to avoid loud noises.

 

He swings open the door expecting to find Jonas behind the noise, but doesn’t expect to see Sonja sitting there with drumsticks in her hands again. He follows her train of sight to Even on their couch again. Suddenly, Jonas comes out of their kitchen with drinks. It’s then that Isak realizes he’s standing in the door frame in nothing but his boxers. With the natural light saturating their apartment, Isak feels especially on display as he stands there. He folds his hands across his chest in an attempt to cover himself up.

 

“Good morning” is all Jonas says, “did we wake you?”

 

Isak glares at his friend, Jonas knows they did.

 

“Sonja and Even came over again.”

 

After a quick smile to both, Isak rushes back into Jonas’ room. He tries to pretend that there isn’t a blush rising up his chest to his cheeks when he rummages Jonas’ closet for clothes. He also tries to pretend he didn’t see Even's eyes crawling up his skin. It's the same intense gaze they shared at Noora's house party. The same one they shared yesterday.

 

He’s tempted to lie and say he has work today so he can get out of there, but he already did that yesterday. Instead he finds himself on the opposite of the couch acting as if Even isn’t three feet away from, like yesterday didn't happened. It feels like hours have passed while Sonja and Jonas switch spots in front of the drums. Isak only halfway listens, but it’s enough that he can tell who’s behind them and when. Sonja is good and Isak knows Jonas really likes her.

 

He’s aimlessly scrolling through his instagram when Even coughs to clear his throat. Isak tenses knowing he’s about to speak. Except he doesn’t, so Isak does instead.

 

“Nice shoes.” he compliments staring down at the same pair he had thrown up on.

 

Even's smile slowly appears, “Yea, shoes usually are. You know, when they’re not covered in the remnants of someone’s lunch.”

 

Isak laughs, “Really? I thought it was an improvement.”

 

Even looks down at his shoes bringing them together, “what’s wrong my shoes?”

 

Isak looks down at them too, “they’re kind of ugly.”

 

Even's mouth drops open when he gasps, “Is that why you puked on them?”

 

“Wait,” Even interrupts himself, “So that's why you did it? Because you hated my shoes not because you wanted to me shirtless.”

 

“Shut up.” Isak mumbles, “I didn’t want to see you shirtless.”

 

“Sure, Isak.” Even continues to tease him.

 

They’re too busy laughing to notice that the drumming has stopped. Then, Isak hears Sonja call out from behind them.

 

“Ready to go, Even?”

 

Isak watches Even's smile subside as he answers, “Ready.”

 

He follows Even off the couch so he can stand next to Jonas. Even and Isak stand awkwardly at their sides as Sonja and Jonas continue to talk about rhythms and symbol patterns.

 

“Let met get that tape for you.”Jonas suddenly says disappearing into his bedroom.

 

Once he leaves, silence is created among them. They can hear Jonas rumbling in the room, but no one says anything until Sonja does.

 

“We’re going to eat at the diner on 33rd Street, if you and Jonas want to come.” Sonja starts to invite them before Even is interrupting her.

“No, don’t come.” he blurts out too quickly and harshly.

 

It earns him glances from both of them.

 

“They probably already have plans and..” Even quickly starts to explain himself, but all Isak hears is “ _No, don’t come_ ” which sounds a lot like “I don’t want you to come” to Isak.

 

He tries not to let the disappointment appear on his face when he speaks, “We already have plans.”

 

At that, it stays quiet until Jonas comes back and they're leaving the apartment.

 

“That was fun.” Jonas nods enthusiastically as the door shuts.

 

Isak spins around to face Jonas so he can see the frown on his face, “Why didn’t you tell me they were here. You let me walk out basically naked.” He begins to yell.

 

Jonas laughs remembering the moment, “You should have seen your face.”

 

Isak reaches over to push at Jonas’ chest, “fuck you.”

 

“And why was I in your bed?”

 

Jonas is still laughing when it answers, “Isak, we were so drunk I don’t even remember going to bed.”

 

***

 

They spend the rest of their day cleaning their flat because the entire place smells like weed and every time Isak inhales it, images of smoke falling from Even's lips into his come to his mind. Mostly it's just Isak scrubbing counter tops and wiping the windows like he's cleaning Even out of memory. It's suppose to be a distraction, but Isak keeps remembering the look on Even's face as he keeps Isak from joining him. 

 

He understands that after what happened while they were high it could be awkward considering he had a girlfriend, but if Jonas could deal with it, so could Even. Either way, Isak swore to himself that he'd stay away from him.

 

***

 

And Isak really did try. He even skipped the band practice yesterday. He knew Even would just ignore him and Sonja would probably kick him out, so he told Jonas he was too sick to go. But that promise was quickly broken when "New Text Message From Even" appeared across his screen the next day while he was working. 

 

**Even**

(4:17 pm)

Are you at KB right now?

**Isak**

(4:28 pm)

until 9

why

**Even**

(4:29 pm)

Can I see you?

**Isak**

(4:35 pm)

we're really busy

**Even**

(4:36)

Please

I promise to leave if it gets too crowded

**Isak**

(4:54)

okay


	5. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song: "Red" by Catfish and the Bottlemen

Even if Even catches Isak's lie when he walks into the empty coffee shop, he doesn't say anything. Instead he walks straight to the counter without looking at Isak until he's front of him.

 

"Hi."

 

"Hi."

 

"Can we talk?" He asks, a nervousness in his voice that has never been there before.

 

Isak obliges following him to the same table they sat at before.

 

"So, I feel like I need to explain to you why I've been acting like this for the last couple of days."

 

"You don't have to."

 

"Yes, I do."

 

With that Isak doesn't argue back. He waits for Even to begin.

 

"You know I've been with Sonja for four years."

 

"Okay."

 

"And I know she can be a little.." He begins to trail trying to find the right words.

 

"Demanding?" Isak offers.

 

It makes Even laugh which is the first time Isak has seen him without a frown since he came in, "Right, but it’s because she knows what it takes to make it.”

 

“Okay.” Isak repeats.

 

“And I’m sorry she kicked you guys out of the last band practice. When Jonas bought up Saturday, I felt really bad. I still do.” He begins to apologize.

 

“Jonas said something about it?”

 

Even shakes his head, “He said it’s why you weren’t at today’s practice.”

 

Isak can’t find it in himself to be mad at Jonas especially when the result has Even sitting so close to him.

 

“That wasn’t the only reason.” Isak mumbles.

 

“ _Oh_.”

 

Even shifts uncomfortably in his seat, bringing his hands onto the table so he can nervously twist the silver band he has around his index finger.

 

“Things just get so intense when Sonja’s here and it’s like-” Even struggles to finish his sentence.

 

There’s frustration building in his voice as he tries to continue, “like I would never have done _that_ if you made you uncomfortable-”

 

Isak interrupts him there, “Uncomfortable?”

 

“At the party and at your guys' place. Now I feel like there’s some form of unspoken tension that-”

 

“Even,” Isak interrupts him again, “we were drunk and high and _Jonas_.” He reminds him.

 

“ _And Jonas_.” Even repeats.

 

With that, there’s no need to explain anything further, like everything between the three of them is perfectly summed up by it: _Jonas._ To be fair, that’s exactly how it should be.

 

Isak is ready to dive into that thought more when Carly’s shout stops him.

 

Isak, we’re gonna close up early.”

 

He’s completely forgotten that he had been working. Although, the place has been empty since Isak’s shift started, so it’s not hard to forget.

 

“I guess that my cue to leave.” Even sighs beginning to stand up.

 

“You can come back to ours. I think Jonas may be home.” Isak lies knowing Jonas texted him an hour ago telling him he wouldn’t be back until the next morning.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yea. We can leave after I help close.”

 

With a nod, Isak disappears into the kitchen while Even waits for him to come back. He’s never cleaned tables and half empty coffee pots so fast before that he’s not sure if they’re even clean when he’s finished.

 

“Ready?” Even's eyebrow raises when Isak meets him at the door.

 

“Lets go.”

 

There’s only four blocks from their apartment from the coffee house, but walking with Even makes it feel a lot longer. They’re side to side, walking down the empty block; headlights and street lamps illuminate their way.

 

“We played one our first shows there almost two years.” Even says pointing to a brick building on the opposite side of the street.

 

It looks no different than the other brick walled stores filling the block. The lights inside are off, but the place is so mediocre, Isak can’t imagine the band playing there even if they were on.

 

“Isn’t that a shoe replacement store?”

 

“It used to be this weird bookstore before.” Even tells him as he ducks his head, looking both ways before they’re crossing the street.

 

“That’s weird.”

 

When Even laughs, Isak watches his eyes nearly squint close. He can't help, but smile at it.

 

“No-no. There was an elderly couple who owned it and she even took our photo and hung it on the wall.”

 

“That’s still weird.”

 

“She was nice, but only like six people showed up to see us that night. And half of them were Magnus, Vilde, Sana and Eva.”

 

“I would have gone, if I had known it was just across the street.” Isak admits, the honestly catching them both off guard.

 

Even breath catches and he stops walking. Isak looks back to find him momentarily frozen, “that would have been before you started dating Jonas, right?”

 

“Yea, I guess so.” Isak confirms it.

 

“Can you imagine that? Us meeting before you had a boyfriend.” Even asks his, voice hinting towards something Isak doesn’t want to think about.

 

But, nonetheless he answers, “In some parallel universe, we would have.”

 

“Parallel Universe?” Even catches it.

 

“An alternate universe,” Isak explains, “like a theoretical reality based on the ‘what ifs’.”

 

“Like a world where you didn’t have a boyfriend.” Even says.

 

Isak nods.

 

“And I didn’t have girlfriend.” he adds.

 

“Or where you weren’t in a band.” Isak teases.

 

Evan's mouth drops in an exaggerated gasp, “I don’t like that one.”

 

“Me either.” Isak agrees.

 

***

 

When they get to the apartment, it’s empty. That information only surprises Even.

 

“Jonas isn’t here.” Even states the obvious.

 

“He’s visiting his family, he must still be there.”

 

Even remains in the doorway, Isak thinks he’s going to walk back out it. He wonders if the events from three nights ago are replaying in his mind. With Jonas not there, Isak’s not sure where there boundry line is. He’s not even sure if mentioning it is past it. So instead he puts it all aside in hopes that Even will do the same.

 

“Are you going to come in?” He asks kicking off his shoes into the pile they have growing by the entrance.

 

After a moment of hesitation, Even shuts the door behind him. However, he only steps as far as the door mat extends while Isak moves into the kitchen.

 

“Do you want something to drink?” He calls over his shoulder.

 

“Whatever you’re having is good.” Even responds finally stepping further in, following the the sound of Isak’s voice into the kitchen.

 

He walks in to find the same boy standing over the opened fridge.

 

“Do you want a grilled cheese?”

 

The question takes Even by surprise, and he has to keep himself from laughing. However a smile manages to get pass him.

 

“What?”

 

“A grilled cheese.” Isak repeats already pulling out a cheese slices.

 

“Serious?”

 

“What are you?” Isak scowls, “A food elitist.”

 

“It’s almost 10 and you want to make grilled cheeses?”

 

“I think it would be rude if I just made me one.”

 

Even laughs leaning back onto the counter directly across from where Isak is leaning over the the stove.

 

“It would be.”

 

Isak rolls his eyes fighting a smirk as he goes to turn on their stove. Over the clatter of pans he hears Even speak.

 

“I don’t think I’ve had a grilled cheese since I was like 10.”

 

“Your life must be very sad,” Isak jokes, “if you don’t eat a grilled cheese at least once a week, what’s the point of living.”

 

“Every week.”

 

“At least.”

 

Isak tries not to think about Even’s eyes on him as he turns around beginning to put the bread onto the pan. As it begins to fry, he can nearly feel them on the back of his neck. When he turns around, he finds them there until Even’s quickly dropping his gaze to the floor.

 

Even clears his throat  trying to elevate some of the tension the silence has created.

 

“You know,” He begins, “One time we played at an abandoned swimming pool, and got arrested.”

 

“What?”

 

“Mahdi knew about this condemned hotel site with an underground pool that kids skated at and we thought it’d really help us get more fans if we started playing in different places.”

 

“Bookstores weren’t cutting it anymore?”

 

“Surprisingly not.” Even laughs, “We needed to start booking gigs past 7pm.”

 

“Nothing good ever happens until at least 7:30.”

 

“Atleast.” Even agrees with a smile that matches Isak’s.

 

“So you got arrested for trespassing?” Isak asks reminding them both of the story Even has left behind.

 

“No, actually. The cop was going to let us off with a warning.”

 

“So what happened?”

 

“The second cop that was there started rushing us. And he started pushing our equipments to intimidate us. But he wasn’t going to arrest us. So, we wouldn’t have spent the night in jail, if Noora hadn’t pissed him off.” He shrugs.

 

“What did she do?”

 

“She almost punched him when he hauled her keyboard onto the floor.”

 

Isak laughs trying to imagine Noora fighting the cop. Images of stomping boots, and flying pink hair accompany that though.

 

“It wouldn’t have been bad if Chris hadn’t been right behind her, ready to jump in.”

 

“Wow.”

 

Even grins, “I know. But I don’t know what was worse. That night in jail or the yelling we got from Vilde the next morning.”

 

“Definitely Vilde.”

 

Even shakes his head, “definitely”

 

***

 

When the sandwiches are made, Even follows Isak into the living room. They sit across from each other in the center of the carpet. Isak keeps them away from the spot under the window. He tries not to think about what took place there as Even picks up his grilled cheese.

 

“It’s honestly not that burnt.” Even reassures him although Isak can see just how dark the bread has gone.

 

“Well, it’s your fault.” He banters on, grilled cheese in one hand and a beer in the other.

 

“My fault?” Even laughs, “you let yourself become distracted.”

 

“How was I suppose to worry about the food when you were telling me about the time you got lost on your way to a show.”

 

Even throws his head back laughing, “that wasn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to us. There’s so many stories that you wouldn’t even believe.”

 

“Tell me them, then.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yea, tell me your stories.”

 

That’s how Isak finds himself leaning forward, hanging onto every word Even lets go of. Laughing at every memory he gives him. Like the time they played a show in the parking lot of venue they were supposed to play inside, but with everyone being under 21, they couldn’t even step foot inside the bar. Or the time they ran out of gas in the middle of the country and all the times they’ve crashed on strangers’ couches and regretted it the next morning.

 

“Even after all that, you still want to do that?” Isak asks.

 

“You always sound so skeptical, Isak.” Even points out finishing the last gulp of his beer.

 

Between the both of them, Isak’s lost count of how many they’ve gone through.

 

“There’s no stability.”

 

Even groans, meeting Isak’s eyes, “Where’s the fun in that?”

 

Isak’s breath catches in his throat at the intensity of Even’s gaze. He’s not doing anything, but looking at him with wide eyes and an expression he can’t describe.

 

“It’s like your parallel universes” He says quietly, “except I don’t want it all to happen in some other universe, I want it to happen in this one.”

 

There’s something longing in his voice that Isak realizes comes from their conversation earlier.

 

“Wouldn’t that be sad?” Even asks him.

 

Isak watches Even’s eyes lower to his lips.

 

While still looking at them, Even continues,“if things only existed in parallel universes.”

 

It’s almost like he’s tracing Isak’s mouth, waiting for his response. But when nothing comes, he clears his throat and gives Isak a defeated look, “maybe that’s for the best, anyway.”

 

Isak remains silent when Even pulls himself up from the floor. He feels like he can finally breathe again when Even walks into the kitchen with their dishes. After a moment, Isak follows him with an armful of empty beer bottles.

 

With his back turned to Even, he pours the remaining liquid out of the cans. He tries not to let himself  flinch when Even settles next to him.

 

“I should go.” Even says.

 

Isak only nods distracting himself with the dishes in the sink. This time, he doesn’t stop Even from walking out the door. When he hears the door shut, he lets himself fall forward, clutching the sink counter for support.

 

He doesn’t bother with the dishes or the rest of the bottles, letting them pile up in the sink for the night. Instead he buries himself under his duvet trying not to replay the night in his head, trying to ignore all through involving Even bech Naeshim.

 

***

 

The show they’re suppose to play tonight gets cancelled. Something about an electricity shortage and a half-finished re-writing job. At least that’s all Isak’s gets to hear from the back of van. Noora and Even are outside talking to the man while everyone else stares out the window trying to figure out what happened. The van goes silent when Noora’s voice raises. When they climb back in the car everyone waits anxiously for the explanation.

 

“No show tonight.” is all Noora says.

 

Everyone turns to face each other before Chris finally asks the question they all want to: “What happened?”

 

“We’re not playing there tonight or ever.” Noora huffs crossing her arms.

 

“Did they do something?” Mahdi questions.

 

“They gave our time to another band.” Even finally admits.

 

No one says anything else or pushes it further. When Even starts the van and begins to drive, Isak makes eye contact with him through the mirror. He quickly readjusts himself so he can stare out the window instead.

 

“We can’t go to mine.” Noora suddenly says, “Eskild has some guy over, and we really don’t want to be there for that.”

 

Her comment eases the tension as small giggles form throughout the car.

 

“We can go to ours.” Jonas offers earning a shocked look from Isak.

 

“That’s alright with you, right?” He asks a little quieter.

 

With everyone looking at him, Isak can’t say no. Even if a part of him wants to. It’s why he finds himself seated next to Jonas as Noora shouts over music while ordering pizza on her phone.

 

“We have to get cheese for Sana.” Even reminds her as she’s beginning to list their orders.

 

After an incredibly confusing re-ordering and correcting their orders, it’s finally put in.

 

“I’m never doing that again.”Noora sighs when she hangs up the phone.

 

She rejoins them in the living room as they all squeeze onto the limited furniture. However, Even and Mahdi end up on the door. Chris and and Eva are essentially sharing a recliner. And Isak is pushed so close to Jonas he may as well be sitting on top of him. It doesn’t seem to bother Jonas though. He already has an arm thrown around him, resting on the top of the sofa.

 

“We have to do something about that venue.” Noora says.

 

“Like what? It’s not like we can burn the place down.” Mahdi reminds them.

 

“They can’t just give away our concert date to someone else just because they’re bigger than us.”

 

“Apparently, they can.” Chris mutters.

 

“That’s not helping.” Noora fights back.

 

“We need someone who can actually make a difference to do something.” Mahdi suggests.

 

“Do you think Sonja could say something?” Noora asks. Isak notices her voice change when she speaks to Even.

 

Even visibly winces at the mention.

 

“I don’t think it’s the best time to ask” is all Even says.

 

The room falls silent as everyone exchanges looks. Finally Noora speaks, “Is everything alright between you two.”

 

“You know Sonja.” Even shrugs smiling like he wants the topic changed.

 

“Well, it doesn’t matter.” Noora sighs finally giving in to everyone's argument, “we’ll just stay away from that place from now on.”

 

Isak knows that her defeat is a lot less about her and more about dropping the subject all together. There’s still a hovering awkwardness revolving Even, who already seems to be too quiet.

 

However, the night seems to exponentially get better when the pizza and Sana arrives. She seems to cheer Even up when everyone agrees to let him pick the movie.

 

It’s a weird movie to say the least. Isak can’t really follow the premise especially with one eye on the screen and the other watching Even’s face sink into a frown every time he types away on his phone. Halfway through the movie he takes a phone call. They pause the movie waiting him to return. As they wait in silence they can hear faint yelling coming from down the hall.

 

“I’m just gonna say it,” Magnus blurts out, “Why is Even still with her? They fight all the time.”

 

“Magnus.” Vilde suddenly gasps, “We don’t know what they’re going through.

 

“Yes we do?” Mahdi argues, “We all know how Sonja is.”

 

“We shouldn't be talking about this, it’s not our business to say anything.”Noora speaks up.

 

“We‘re his friends,” Sana says, “and we know he’s not happy. We should say something.”

 

“I’m with Sana.” Chris agrees.

 

“Me too.” adds Mahdi.

 

Noora sighs in defeat, “He’s not going to break up with Sonja. We all know this. If we tell him to do so and he doesn’t, it’s going to make thing awkward especially when Sonja finds out.”

 

Noora’s arguments seems to resonate with everyone because no argues against it.

 

“It’s still not right.” Mahdi mumbles, “He should have left her after she cheated on him.”

 

“Mahdi!” Noora warns.

 

“You were thinking the same thing.”

 

Their conversation is cut short when footsteps echo in the hallway.

 

“What?” Even grumbles noticing all their eyes on him.

 

“Everything alright?” Noora timidly asks.

 

When Even answers, his voice is a lot quicker and harsher than it needs to be, “Why wouldn’t it be.”

 

Everyone flinches at the coldness of his tone and words.

 

“You just seem a little distracted tonight.” Mahdi explains.

 

“Everything’s fine, just drop it.”

 

“Okay.” Mahdi winces doing just that.

 

“There’s just a lot going on.” Even finally tells them.

 

No one decides to push the vagueness of Even’s word further like Isak wishes they had. Instead Chris pulls a bottle of Vodka from her bag.

 

“We were saving this for after the show, but I think now is a good time to open it.”

 

Isak doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to see alcohol in his life.

 

It quickly turns into a game of “Never have I ever” which turns into everyone trying to coax out embarrassing questions with extremely specific “Never have I ever” questions. Mahdi has just put a finger down for losing the “Never Have I Ever been thrown out of a club for almost having sex in the bathroom.”

 

“Almost!” Mahdi yells before downing his shot.

 

As he begins to retell the story every groans and laughs at the memory.

 

“Like you guys haven’t done worse.” He argues back.

 

“Why do you think you’ve put down the most fingers.” Noora laughs, holding up a proud 8 that is identical to Sana’s.

 

“This game is rigged.” Mahdi slurs looking down at the last four fingers he still has up.

 

Chris and Vilde both have 7; Magnus and Even have five, and Jonas and Isak are tied with 6.

 

“Okay, my turn.” Magnus shouts shutting everyone up, “Never have I ever had sex in the van.”

 

Everyone gaps when Even’s thumb goes down.

 

“What the fuck, we sit there.” Noora shouts with a disgusted grimace.

 

“Where?” Everyone shouts through loud laughter.

 

Even shakes his head, dodging the question with alcohol.

 

“And you guys said I was gross.” Mahdi sneers.

 

“It was only twice.” Even bursts out earning more disgusted groans from everyone.

 

“That’s it.” Noora shrieks, “the van is staying at mine from now on.”

 

“Fine, but I get to give the next question.” Even challenges. He looks at Isak when he speaks, “Never have I ever hooked up with someone from the same band.”

 

The question may aimed for him, but it’s Eva that squeals.

 

“Even!”

 

Isak’s glad it’s Eva lowering a finger, not him.

 

“I didn’t even know they were in the same band.” Eva giggles before she swallows what's ever left in her shot glass.

 

“And how was I supposed to know?” She asks wincing as the alcohol burns its way down.

 

“Wait,” Chris starts, “are they in that band we went to go see, but then you made us leave early.”

 

When Eva nods, everyone laughs.

 

“They were hot!” Chris exclaims extending her hand to high five Eva. Even Noora is shaking her head in agreement, “they were!”

 

As expected, Mahdi loses first. Everyone else quickly follows. Sana wins the game with 5 fingers still up.

 

“You all are gross.” She says glaring at everyone sprawled out on the carpet.

 

“Sana.” Isak hears someone whine, but he’s not sure who it comes from.

 

“We really should stop drinking so much.” Isak’s pretty sure he hears Noora groan as she slowly sits up.

 

“What else would we do?” Magnus jokes.

 

“What time is it?” someone suddenly asks.

 

“1:34.” multiple people answer.

 

After that, the apartment starts to get empty. Noora leaves first with a very drunk Eva under her arm. Then Sana, with a stumbling Vilde. Magnus and Mahdi only stay long enough to help clean up, but are tripping over their own feet as they climb into a taxi.

 

Isak and Jonas are still seated next to each other on the floor, next to Even who’s on his back staring blankly at the ceiling.

 

“You alright?” Jonas finally asks.

 

Even with the three of them alone in the apartment, his voice is still no louder than a whisper. Before Even answers he props himself onto his elbows so he can look at Jonas when he talks.

 

“I think Sonja and I may have broken up, but I don’t know.”

 

“What the fuck, why didn’t you tell us?” Jonas quickly yells.

 

Even only shrugs, “I’ll figure it out in the morning.”

 

“That’s why I only date boys,” Jonas teases running a hand through Isak’s untamed hair, letting it rest on the back of his neck, “they’re a lot easier.”

 

Isak rolls his eyes, blushing as he tries to push Jonas off him. Except Jonas tightens his grip and pulls him closer placing a messy kiss on his cheek.

 

“Maybe I should too.” Even murmurs falling back onto the carpet.

 

“You should try it sometime.” Jonas says with a voice that makes Isak wonder what he’s hinting at.

 

This situation is all too familiar that Isak can practically see it forming.

 

Isak doesn’t know how Jonas does it; how he’s able to remove the tension and replace it with something else. Something that makes Isak lean forward. Perhaps it’s the way Jonas frames it, like it’s a challenge and Isak has something to prove.

 

So when Jonas voice lowers to say,“What about right now”, Isak doesn't even blink.

 

However, he is sure that no one breathes until Jonas speaks.

 

He says, “You can kiss him if you want to” so low and close in Isak’s ear that his breath dampens his skin. The lonely strands of hair curled above his ear tinkle his ear.

 

With an encouraging hand, Isak moves forward. Except, this time there’s no smoke or tequila bottle prompting them, just the gently nudge of Jonas’ palm. Even doesn’t move, he stay completely still, making Isak be the one to move closer.

 

He watches Even’s face, can't decides if he's serious or not.

 

After too long, he gains the courage to crawls on top of Even, who is resting on his elbows again. They move so cautiously and so slowly, that every interaction makes their bodies drag against time. With a bent knee on either side of Even’s hips, Isak has to hunch his shoulder to meet Even’s lips below him.

Even reaches out and curls his hand over Isak’s neck, bringing him down, finally meeting him halfway. Isak grunts a bit, but doesn’t stops him when Even nudges their noses and then their lips together. Instead he settles against Even and kisses him. He makes a little sound and opens up, making Isak press closer.

They kiss lazily, breathing into each other’s mouths, loud enough that it fills the silence. With Even pressed against him Isak feels smaller, like Even’s enveloping him.

He gets caught up in the feeling of it, his fingers finding their own way up to the sliver of exposed skin just above the collar of Even’s shirt. His thumb slips under it when Even breaks away. He immediately scans Even’s face, and then feels his heart stop when Even’s looking past him back at Jonas.

While still sitting in his lap, Isak turns to do the same, he’s sees Jonas with the same smile on his face.

 

“How was it?” Jonas asks staring back at Even.

 

Isak waits for Even’s response, watching him bring his hand up to wipe at his lips.

 

“S'different” is all he says.

 

It's after that that Jonas offers Even the second bedroom, not thinking twice as he leads them back to his.

Isak doesn’t understand why Jonas leaves the door open until he’s tugging on Isak’s hand to pull him into bed with him. The lights may be out, but the curtains allow in just enough light that their silhouettes show. From where Isak is sitting on top of Jonas, he can see Even’s outline in the living room. He’s sitting on the couch with an aerial view into their room. Jonas must know this as he’s sliding warm hand up Isak’s bare arms.

“Jonas.” Isak reverently mumbles, breathing heavily, against his skin, everything overwhelming him from the lightness of Jonas’s hands, to how intimately close they are, to Even’s eyes still on them.

 

Jonas settles against the pillows, staring up at Isak. His face hot, lips burning with the memory of this Even. He sounds breathless in Jonas’ lap and on display - it’s easy to tell that he’s getting flustered. Jonas reaches up to cups Isak’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together, their eyes locked, and nips at his lips.

The kiss is messy and Jonas licks into Isak’s mouth, listening to small moans Isak's letting slip past his lips. He loves his hand under his shirt, dragging his nails down his shoulders. As the kiss deepens, Isak manages to run his hand through Jonas’ hair, his fingers getting lost among loose silky curls and pulling slightly.    

At the same time, Isak can feel his shirt being pulled up over his back. He only has a second to think about who it’s coming off for, Jonas or Even, before that becomes obvious.

It’s for Even.

His limbs feel tangled in the sleeves as Jonas begins pulling it over his head. When he lets it fall to the floor, Isak doesn’t miss the way Jonas’ eyes wander past him and into the living room.

Isak watches the corner of his mouth wind upwards into a small smirk as his eyes focus.

Jonas bring their lips back together, placing his hands on Isak’s bare skin. Jonas smooths his hands up Isak’s sides, fingers pressing into his skin. He's trialing down so slowly, he can feel his muscles pull and pull, and he thinks he's explode from the tension. 

 

Isak fingers bury into his shoulder until his knuckles grow white. He feels like everything is slowly draining out of him with the way Jonas’ is gripping his hips shifting him so he’s seated right over him.  

The small moans that are escaping Isak’s mouth are swallowed and muffled in between Jonas’ lips. Isak grinds down, sloppy and hurried. His breath hitches when Jonas pulls him closer, rocking up against him.

 

“Jonas,” Isak whines loudly.

 

He expects Jonas to moan the same thing based on the way his eyes flutter open, but a loud sound erupts and startles them both.

It comes from Isak’s rom, but rattles the entire apartment. Jonas’ eyes widen as he stares into the living room. This time Isak looks with him. Even is nowhere to be seen and Isak suspects the loud slam comes from him.

 

“Alright?” Jonas pants.

 

Isak’s breathing is no better. It’s still jagged and uneven when Jonas’ hand reaches up to push the hair that has fallen across his forward back.

“You look exhausted.” He whispers, dropping his hands to his sides.

 

“So, do you.”

 

“Let's go to sleep.” Jonas yawns twisting his hips so Isak climbs off.

 

When Jonas throws an arm him and buries his face in the back of Isak's shoulder, he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t even think about Even watching them. The only thing he can think about is the swell in Jonas’ pants that’s pressing up against him. Even then between the alcohol and the pressure of his eyelids, Isak’ not sure if he'd imagined it or. But he’s too tired to figure it out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to eveyone who continues to read this! <3  
> 


	6. Oxygen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song: Oxygen by Catfish and the Bottlemen

 

Isak slowly wakes up to a dull pressure present on the underside of his jaw. With his mind still hazy from sleep, and his limbs still heavy, he sinks further into the warmth radiating behind him. He doesn’t open eyes yet, but allows his head to fall off the edge of his pillow so his neck is exposed to the sunlight falling through the curtains. The soft drag of lips trace the side of his neck so lightly, he  thinks it’s the flutter of morning sheets until a wet opened mouth is added. Then, teeth and tongue, and Isak feels the dull ache from his skin being sucked and squeezed between a pair of firm lips.

 

“Jonas.” He hisses when teeth clamp down.

 

With eyes slamming open, he brings his hands to push at the bare chested boy hovering over him. Jonas lands back onto the spot on the mattress next to him, laughing too loudly for Isak’s morning ears.

 

“Finally, you’re up!” Jonas chuckles using his wrist to wipe his mouth.

 

“Fuck you.” Isak yawns, eyes adjusting to the sun falling in them.

 

He’s ready to salvage the thirty minutes before they have to get up by shielding his eyes with the crook of his elbow, and curling up under Jonas’ comforter.

Except Jonas has other plans, he presses his thumb onto the skin that was just between his lips. Still wet, he runs his finger over the reddening spot. His movements are so gentle, like the graduale ease of waking up, that Isak rests into it. Until Jonas’ toes graze his ankle.

 

“Jonas. You’re feet are fucking freezing.” Isak winces quickly moving away from Jonas’ touch.

 

He can hear the same boy laughing as he moves his arm from over his eyes.

 

“They wouldn’t be, if you hadn’t taken all the covers last night!”

 

“You shouldn’t have left the window open.”

 

“I’ll remember that for next time.” Jonas shrugs settling back onto the mattress with his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

 

“Oh, shit. I forgot to tell you.” Jonas suddenly shouts sitting himself upright, so he can lean against the headboard.

 

“I ran into our landlord two nights ago.”

 

“We’re getting kicked, aren’t we?” Isak only half jokes.

 

Their neighbors complaints must have finally been listened to. He can already see the elderly couple living next to them cheering as they’re forced to move out.

 

“No, not yet,” Jonas laughs, “he told me, he came to our show last week.”

 

“You’re serious?”

 

“Yea, even got himself one of our shirts.”

 

This time it’s Isak that laughs as he picture their nearly sixty-year old tennant wearing the shirt.

 

“Even I don’t own a shirt.”

 

“That’s because you’re a terrible friend and even worse fake-boyfriend.”Jonas teases pushing on Isak’s shoulder so he moves closer to the edge of the bed.

 

The word repeats in Isak’s mind, despite the smile that’s spreading across his face: _fake._

 

“And he said he loved us, so we’re never getting kicked out now.” Jonas concludes with a self-satisfied grin.

 

“Until he realizes just how awful you really are.”

 

The joke earns him another shove.

 

“Have anything planned for today?”

 

Isak shakes his head, “I should probably go see my family, though.”

 

“You should, though.” He  agrees.

 

Things fall so silent that they can hear the city noise linger in from the crack in the window. The sound of distant traffic and thrashing wind fill their room.

 

“We should get up.” Jonas sighs.

 

Isak groans turning to look a the clock. It flashes a bright 11:15.

 

“I’m showering first!” Jonas shouts jumping off the bed, and running down the hallway.

 

Isak quickly follows, “No! You always use up all the hot water!” he yells chasing after him

 

Jonas manages to make it in the bathroom first, slamming the door behind him, so Isak falls forward, face meeting the wood.

 

“Jonas, hurry up!” He warns as his fists hit the frame.

 

Whatever Jonas yells back is muffled by the faucet  and vent, so Isak can’t hear it, but he does hear the creaking of his bedroom when it opens.

 

“Morning” a very sleepy Even says leaning against the door with drowsy eyes and wild hair.

 

“I hope you don’t mind,” He continues, “I slept in some of your clothes.”

 

Isak’s eyes finally move from Even’s face to his clothing. He instantly recognizes the loose t-shirt and sweatpants he’s dressed in as his.

“No, just let me-” Isak doesn’t bother finishing his sentence as he’s rushing back into Jonas’ room searching for clothing.

He chooses a shirt with a collar high enough that he hopes will cover his marked neck, before he’s scrambling back out into the living room.

 

“Hey.” he finally greets Even, who looks like he’s still fighting off sleep, judging by the way the door frame is supporting him.

 

“Is it always this loud in the morning?” he asks, hand gesturing towards the bathroom door.

 

“You know Jonas.”

 

Lazily Even’s eyebrows rise, “of course, Jonas.”

 

Isak has a feeling that it’s intended to mean more, but he doesn’t let it go any further before he’s offering to make them coffee. They drink the first half of their cup in silence, partly because Isak’s not sure if Even’s going to fall asleep right in front of him.

 

“Are you alright?” He finally asks.

 

“Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” Even admits.

 

“Sonja” is all Even has to say for Isak to understand.

 

“Is everything alright between you too?” He asks.

 

Before Even answers he takes a long sip from his mug, “Sometimes I feel like I’m only with her for the sake of the band.”

 

After a deep sigh, Even is continuing, “Plus, we’ve already been together for so long.”

 

“Do you think, you’ll ever end it?”

 

“Maybe,” Even pauses, “If i had the right reasons to.”

 

He lets himself linger on Isak longer than necessary before he’s breaking their eye contact.

 

“By the way,” He says, “your mattress is shit."

 

“It’s not!”

 

“How do you even sleep on that thing?”

 

Isak’s thinks the tension is gone as they’re both laughing because Isak knows his mattress is terrible, but it quickly returns when Even speaks.

 

“Is Jonas’ any better?”

 

Isak can feel the question bring a blush to his cheeks he squirms under Even’s gaze, until he finally answers.

 

“It’s the same.” He shrugs, pretending the question isn’t alluding to something else.

 

He can hear Even hum as he finishes the rest of the coffee in his mug. He doesn’t know how long they’ve sat there, but it’s enough time for his drink to become luke warm, so the last sips of it are bitter.

 

“Thanks for letting me spend the night again.” Even says staring into his cup, “I owe you one.”

 

“You can make me breakfast.”

 

“Okay.” Even laughs it out.

 

***

 

“Wait,” Even stops him, “keep that song on.”

 

Isak hand freezes, until he turns the dial on their radio higher, trying to recognize the songs that’s playing. When he does, he gives Even a look.

 

“Serious?”

 

“What?”Even questions, spatula in hand.

 

Isak lets the music explain itself. An overly upbeat pop [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3tGMVuj41SI) makes him roll his eyes.

 

“What’s wrong with it?” Even laughs

 

“You’re in a punk rock band, Even.” Isak snorts like he’s reminding him.

 

“What?” Even gasps making his way over to Isak, body swaying in tune with the song.

 

It makes Isak laugh so much that he has to cover his face to keep himself from completely losing himself at the sight of Even’s dancing. Which involves a lot of head bobbing and shoulder moves

He can hear the volume rise, so he uncovers his face to find Even next to him, laughing the words to the song.

 

“Stop, it’s a terrible song,” Isak giggles, pressing against the counter as Even dances closer.

 

That only seems to encourage Even who smiles even wider.

 

“It’s a good song, Isak!”

 

“No!” Isak laughs frantically shaking his head, “you have terrible taste in music!”

 

When the second verse starts, Even is still singing, but he’s reaching forward, grabbing at Isak’s hands and pulling him off the counter. He’s placing hands on Isak’s shoulder trying to get him dance. Isak’s throwing his head back laughing, slowly beginning to move when Even’s phone shrieks when it rings. The moment quickly ends when Even’s smile falls when he pulls it out of his pocket.

 

“It’s Sonja” is all he says before he’s excusing himself down the hallway.

 

Isak immediately turns the radio off refusing listening to anymore of the song.

 

“Shit.” He curses, remembering the eggs just when it’s too late.

 

The kitchen fills quickly with a layer of smoke that he tries to not suffocate on as he scrapes burnt eggs from the pan.

Jonas comes out of the bathroom, before Even returns.

 

“You’re making breakfast?” He sounds surprised.

 

“I always make breakfast.” Isak argues cracking eggs.

 

“Coffee doesn’t count.” Jonas says as he’s pouring him a glass.

 

When he sits down at their kitchen table, he notices the pair of cups already sitting on the table.

 

“Even’s still here?”

 

With his back to Jonas, Isak answers, “He’s on the phone with Sonja.”

 

He can hear Jonas’ soft “Oh” as he scrambling the eggs. They’re already eating with a plate waiting for Even when he finally comes back. He looks less disheveled when he appears in the doorway.

 

“Everything good?” it’s Jonas that asks this time.

 

“That was Sonja.” Even says slowly walking towards them.

 

“Okay.” Jonas nods waiting for Even to finish.

 

For a moment Isak thinks he’s going to tell them they’ve broken up for good, but suddenly his frown turns into a smile.

 

“She got us into the lineup for _In the Park_!”

 

Jonas pushes himself out from under the table so fast, the floor screams when the legs scratch against the tile.

 

“The festival?”

 

Even nods, trying to hold in his enthusiasm.

 

“We’re playing In the Park?” Jonas squeals.

 

“We’re playing In the Park!” Even confirms.

 

Isak watches Jonas nearly tackle Even into a hug as both of the boys fail to control their excitement.

 

“We have to call the rest of the band!” Jonas reminds him when he finally lets Even go.

 

As they rush out of the kitchen, Even looks back offering Isak a small smile. Isak gives one back trying to be supportive. It’s big deal, he knows that. He also knows at what cost it comes at.

 

***

 

The festival is in two weeks, and the band practices nearly everyday. Isak skips them though, partly because he already hears so much off the sessions from their living room.

 

He’s excited to go. Even if it means he had to beg his co-workers to cover his shifts. Between working and gigs, he’s done nothing all summer. He doesn’t even mind sharing a tent with Jonas for the three days they’re there.

 

The band’s  not big enough to have a room reserved for them, like Sonja’s band, but they get the chance to play in front a few thousand people, so sleeping in a sleeping bag doesn’t matter to them.

 

***

 

The day they leave, they all wake up before the sun’s up. Stumbling in the dark, they load the van with hazy minds and tired limbs. Isak’s meet with half-closed eyes from everyone stuffed inside the van when they climb in.

 

Unfortunately, the venue is eight  hours away, but Isak plans to spend all eight of them asleep. Apparently, that’s [everyone ](https://68.media.tumblr.com/757e2449e1c261684f5d340b49549633/tumblr_ooxjggRfjP1wnbpj8o1_540.jpg)else’s plan when he notices the blankets and pillows they’re all clinging onto. He’s grateful there’s a white u-haul attached to the back of the van that’s carrying all their instruments and luggage, because it means he doesn’t have to sit on Jonas like every other time he’s been in the van.

 

“What time is it?” He yawns when they finally make their way out of the city.

 

“3.” Jonas answers tucking a pillow under his chin and draping the blanket across both of their laps.

 

He shifts in the seat so he can lean against the van’s wall, and so he and Isak are comfortably pressed towards one another.

 

Isak takes the chance to put all his weight on Jonas’ side, head falling on Jonas’ shoulder.

 

“Wake me up when it’s your turn to drive.” He yawns letting his eyes fall shut and himself fall asleep.

 

***

 

Jonas has agreed to take the third driving shift. So, at 9am he’s gently waking Isak up and tugging him out the van to switch spots with Chris and Mahdi who were just on the second shift.

 

With gas station coffee in their system, Isak notices they’re the only ones awake He looks back to find everyone passed out. He’s pretty sure Eva hasn’t woken up since they left their apartment. He silently laughs at the sight of Magnus’ mouth wide open as he lays sprawled over Eskild. Even Sana is deep sleep letting Vilde’s head rest in her lap.

 

“It’s weird, isn’t it.” [Jonas ](https://twicefanfic.tumblr.com/image/159948946544) says quietly, eyes still on the empty road.

 

“What is?” Isak asks tugging the blanket up to his neck.

 

“This” Jonas shrugs, “We’re--I’m--playing at _In the Park_.”

 

“Yea,” Isak agrees, “that’s fucking weird to think about.”

 

“Right.”

 

After a moment, Isak turns to face Jonas, “What are you thinking about all of this?”

 

“I’m still processing it all.” Jonas sighs letting his anxiety show.

 

“You’re not having doubts again right?”

 

“Ask me when we’re about to perform.”He jokes.

 

“I’ll ask you afterwards, instead.

 

After a moment of silence, Jonas speaks.

“But I’m glad I’m here with you, though,” Jonas says full of sincerity when he looks in Isak’s eyes, “you’re my best friend.”

 

Isak can’t help himself from blushing from Jonas’ compliment. Their moment is cut short when Noora groans loudly, “Can you too keep it down with the couple moments? It’s cute, but we’re all trying to sleep.”

 

Isak can feel the blush flush across his face as small hushed giggles erupt around the car. Especially when Jonas laughs a “no promises back.”

 

***

 

When they get there, they spend almost an hour struggling to put the tents together. As expected the Noora-Eskild tent is up first. Then, the Sana-Vilde-Eva comes next. By the time they have all their bedding and chairs set up, Magnus and Mahdi are the last ones still struggling.

 

Although the tents are identical, Magnus is complaining about theirs somehow  being harder to set up

 

“That pole connects to that one.” Sana finally decides to help.

 

They follow her directions, but the entire skeleton of the tent still looks uneven and insecure.

 

“There’s no way I’m sleeping in that.” Even mutters glancing at the uneven design of it.

 

“You can stay in ours,” Jonas offers, “We don’t mind sharing.” He winks putting his arm Isak.

 

Even looks at Isak once before answering, “that’s alright.”

 

“Mahdi, that doesn’t go there!” they hear Magnus yell, following the voices to find the tent half destroyed.

 

“It says that on the instructions.” Mahdi yells back shoving the paper in Magnus’ face.

 

With everyone lounging in lawn chairs, the boys continue to argue until Mahdi finally gives up letting Magnus finish it.

 

“I can’t believe I have to share a tent with him.” Mahdi mumbles as he sits next to Isak and Jonas.

 

“Just hook up with someone and stay in their tent.” Jonas suggests.

 

“What the fuck, Jonas!” Isak gasps at Jonas’ comment, “that’s how you get killed.”

 

“It’s In The Park, not Coachella.” Jonas shrugs before he suddenly thinks of something else, “What if Magnus tries to bring someone back?”

 

“Who Vilde?” Mahdi teases.

 

“Right!” Jonas’ laughs turns into a squeal.

 

Before they can finish their conversation, [Noora](https://68.media.tumblr.com/0206b0a2c6b5d500adc1a31eeae56154/tumblr_op11z4jR5S1wnbpj8o1_540.jpg) and Eva are walking over.

“We’re going to go sit with all the other bands, if you guys want to come with us.” She invites them pointing to the large crowd of people sitting in a separate field.

 

When they finally are, they all walk together. They have special bracelets covering their wrists that allow them special entry into the first round of gates.

 

They spend the rest of their day like that. Surrounded with bands who play half-filled venues and spend all their money on gas for their shows. Bands who are on the brink of making it pass their hometowns. They fit right in.

By the end of the night, they're completely exhausted. They nearly have to drag themselves back to their camping space. Eskild manages to get a fire started forcing them all to sit around even though everyone is ready to dive in their tents.

 

“It’s only 9:30.” He argues putting an end to all their complaints.

 

The temperature has significantly decreased, so Isak’s glad they’re sitting in front of it. However, it doesn’t stop him from shivering inside his light hoodie. After noticing it, Jonas shreds off his large jacket, offering it to him. Isak would decline it if he wasn’t close to freezing.

 

“Aww.” Eskild coos at them, the simple gesture going unnoticed.

 

He may roll his eyes, but he moves closer next to Jonas hoping to absorb the warm radiating between them. The crackling of the fire fills the silence they’re sharing. It casts a warm orange glow over them as they rest.

When Vilde shrieks, it wakes them all up.

“Let's roast marshmellow!”

 

“Vilde.” everyone nearly shouts at the girl’s loud noise.

However, it does nothing because Vilde is already pulling out sticks and marshmallows.

 

“Don’t burn mine.” Jonas teases as Isak sticks their marshmallows over the flames.

 

He doesn’t burn the marshmallows, but he almost lets the sleeve of Jonas’ jacket catch on fire. They’re too big and hang loosely around his wrists. In fact, the entire jackets seems to hang off of him, engulfing his frame. As he watches their marshmallow darken, he hears Jonas and Even talk.

 

“When’s Sonja coming?”

 

“Tomorrow, but they’re staying in one of the building” Even tells him.

 

“Are you excited to see her?”

 

“I guess. I haven't’ seen her since she left.”

 

The conversion makes Isak cringe just listening to it. He doesn't have to look back at Even to know he’s feeling the same way. They truly haven’t spoken aside from small “hellos” when Isak drops Jonas off at practice since that morning in the kitchen. But this time it’s not out of tension, he just hasn’t had the time. Isak can tell, the pressure has gotten to him. He looks exhausted, and not the kind they’re all feeling from the early drive down here, but something stronger.

 

“They’re done.” Isak announces quickly blowing out the small fire starting to burn the corner of the marshmallow, “They’re not burnt.”

 

Isak swings the sticks closer to Jonas so that the treat is pressed against his lips. In response, Jonas parts them taking a bite.

 

“Thanks, baby.” He smiles, trying to wipe the sticky dessert of his lips.

 

The nickname momentarily catches Isak off guard, so his “you’re welcome” is stuttered and delayed.

 

Isak can feel the marshmallow leave behind sticky remnants when he takes a bite. So, he expects Jonas to laugh at him, but he doesn't expect Jonas to bring his thumb to the corner of the mouth to wipe at it.

When Jonas is finished wiping it from his skin, he sticks the tip of his thumb past Isak’s lips. It takes Isak by surprise, so he lets Jonas’s finger sit against his tongue before he realizes what’s happened. Once he does, he quickly flicks his tongue, sucking the sticky fluff off his finger. Jonas shamelessly, presses his thumb further in, like none one, especially Even, is sitting right next to them. Isak, think that may be why Jonas does it.

 

He’s aware of Jonas’ eyes watching his mouth as he does so. Once Jonas deems them to be clean, he pulls them out. Isak immediately looks at Even, who eyes are still staring at his lips.

 

“Ready to go to bed?” Jonas asks pulling from the quick trance he was just in.

 

Isak nods his head, his mouth too dry to form words.

 

“Goodnight, Even.” Jonas says for the both of them, “Our tent’s opened if you get tired of Mahdi and Magnus.”

 

Even breaks the tension with a breathy laugh, “thanks, I’ll keep it mind. Goodnight.”

 

With one small wave, Jonas is leading them back to the tent. After they stumble out of their clothes and into sweats and large t-shirts, it begins to rain outside. Isak watches the shadows of droplets roll down the side of the tent before he falls asleep.

 

***

 

Isak wakes up to clouds of his breathe and the grey skies. The clouds are still threatening to pour out and the smell of morning dew fills their tent.

 

He feels the dead weight of Jonas from where he’s [draped ](https://68.media.tumblr.com/8a39f039ae7b4e14ee430d32c5b85dd1/tumblr_op3o50GlIv1wnbpj8o1_540.jpg) over him. His leg is thrown over Isak’s and his face is buried into his neck. Isak would normally push him off, if he wasn’t so cold.

 

He can already hear shuffling from his friends from outside. He momentarily wonders who is making all that noise when Jonas pushes them closer.

 

“It’s freezing.” Jonas sleepily mumbles into Isak’s skin cold hands clutching Isak’s body for warmth.

 

“It rained all last night.” Isak whispers using his one free hand to move the covers over their shoulders.

 

The information makes Jonas grunt in disgust. Isak can already see the mud puddles they’ll be slipping in today.

 

“We should get up, everyone is already starting to seat up.” Isak says.

 

“10 more minutes.” Jonas suggests with face still buried in Isak’s neck.

 

“Okay, 10 more minutes.”

 

Isak spends the time staring up through the plastic windows of the tent at the grey sky. He tries not to focus on the breathes in his ear or Jonas’ chest pressed to his.

 

“Okay, time's up.” He says pushing Jonas off him.

 

He begins to get dressed when Jonas stop him.

 

“Wait, I have something for you.” He says before he starts digging through his luggage.

 

When he finds it, Isak instantly recognizes it.

 

“You got me your band’s shirt.”

 

Jonas laughs, “You said you didn’t have one. You should wear it today.”

 

“I am not wearing this.” Isak protests still staring down at the shirt.

 

However, Jonas is persistent, so ten minutes later, Isak is walking out their tent wearing it under an opened hoodie.

 

“Nice shirt!” Mahdi smiles when he sees them.

 

“Jonas made me.” He explains.

 

He feels Jonas hand go around him and looks to the find him smiling, “I did.”

 

“You two make me want to throw up.” Mahdi groans pretending to gag.

 

“Mahdi, just because none of your girlfriends ever wear your band shirts doesn’t mean  you have to show your jealousy.” Vilde says, “I think it’s cute.

 

Since Vilde defends them, Isak tries not to roll his eyes at the flower crown she’s wearing.

 

“I have one for everyone.” Vilde says when she catches Isak looking at it.

 

She quickly runs to her tents, when she’s inside, Isak whispers to Jonas.

 

“I’m not wearing a flower crown.”

 

“Why not?” Jonas asks, “You’d look cute in one.”

 

“Jonas.” Isak blushes pushing his friend's side.

 

Vilde quickly return with a bundle of them. They're all different colors, but somehow Isak ends up with the yellow one. Eskild puts the pink one proudly on top of his head, while Sana and Eva do the same. Isak’s the last one to put his on, and it’s only after Vilde’s side eye that he does.

 

“Aw, look at you.” Jonas teases cupping his cheeks, “baby boy.”

 

The compliment makes Isak blush as he struggles to push Jonas away. Except Jonas pulls him closer pressing their lips together. Isak can feel Jonas smile when he kisses him.

 

“Get a room.” He hears Mahdi yell at them when they break apart.

 

Jonas only laughs letting his hand fall from Isak’s face, so he can intertwine them.

 

“What are we eating, I’m starving.” Jonas asks as they sit down.

 

“We’re waiting for Even to get back so we can find someplace down the road.”

 

“Where is he?”

 

“He’s with Sonja, they got here a couple of hour ago.”

 

***

 

Luckily, when Even returns it’s not with Sonja. Apparently, they flew in, so they’re resting up before they do anything. At first, he stares at the crowns decorating their foreheads until Vilde puts an orange one on top of his.

 

As they’re loading into the van, Even stops him.

 

“Nice shirt.” He laughs.

 

“Shut up.” Isak rolls his eyes fighting the smile already in on his face.

 

“It looks good on you” is the last thing Even says before he’s taking the seat behind the wheel.

 

“Thanks” Isak mumbles even though Even has already shut his door.

 

***

 

The only place they manage to find open is a low-end dinner with blinking lights. However, it’s full with kids, so Isak’s glad that they’re not the only group wearing flower crowns there.

The place is extremely busy, so when the waiter finally brings their food to them they’re actually starving. Yet, they fill up on so many pounds of pancakes and bacon that it makes up for the wait.

 

“So what are we doing today?” Magnus asks as he drowns his breakfast in syrup.

 

“I really want to see the Betweener, so I’ll probably spend the day around stage A” Noora says.

 

 

“And that’s where Valerie’s band is performing, so I’ll be there too.” Chris adds.

 

“I’m just gonna roam around and see if I can find the [parties ](https://68.media.tumblr.com/d7bb326e97a8d8a8d2bac79b908b722b/tumblr_op1200x3oQ1wnbpj8o1_540.jpg).” Mahid shrugs stirring creamer into his coffee.

 

“Sonja invited us to a party some of the bigger bands are having,” Even says quietly, “if that’s something we want to go to.”

 

“We have to go to that!” Noora nearly shouts, “we can meet so many people.”

 

“Her band mates are going to be there, though.”

 

Everyone immediately frowns.

 

“What’s wrong with her band mates?” Jonas asks.

 

“They're the Magnusson brothers” Noora begins, “William and Nikolai.”

 

“William’s okay, but Nikolai” Vilde explains shuddering at the second boy’s name.

 

“What’s wrong with him?”

 

“He’s just a weird guy,” Mahdi says, “I wouldn’t even want to be alone with him.”

 

After a moment of silence, Magnus is speaking, “We should still go though. It’ll ,  be a big party, so we won’t have to hang out with them.”

 

“Okay.” they all hesitantly say.

 

“But if anything happens,” Noora starts,“I’m blaming you.”

 

***

Isak spends the day with Jonas following Magnus and Mahdi around to different parts of the park. They drink too much and dance with strangers. Jonas [kisses ](https://68.media.tumblr.com/2c3c3f031320233330cc2d6b0ac2db3d/tumblr_op11ykAk681wnbpj8o1_540.jpg) him in the middle of crowds and grabs Isak’s hand when he struggling to push past groups of people. He almost feels like Jonas isn’t faking it.

Especially when Jonas runs his thumb across the back of his palm when he’s holding his hand. Or when he fixes the flower crown he refuses to let Isak take off and call him “pretty boy.”

It feels real.

***

About midway through the day, Vilde texts everyone to meet back up the camp at 5. When they all come back, Isak notices everyone has some variations of mud on them from dancing in it all day.

Isak doesn’t know where the rainbow flag Eskild has tied around his shoulders,  like a cape, has come from, but Eskild is promising never to take it off. He notices the yellow dots and hearts Eva and Vilde have painted on their foreheads and near their eyes. Everyone seems to be enjoying the festival. Even Sana has glitter in the corner of her eyelids.

The only one who seems to be upset is Even. He’s been with Sonja the entire day up in her suite, so his clothes are clean from the stains of the park.

Before they leave, Isak grabs Jonas’ jacket from last night, already knowing the thin sweater he’s wearing won’t keep him warm. Jonas smiles at him when he notices it over his shoulders.

Even leads them into the building, giving the security guard their names before they’re let in.

It’s not what Isak expects. It’s a lot quieter and cleaner than he though it would be. He assumes by the way everyone else is dressed, none of them have been out in the crowd or outside all day.

They stay together until the girls meet a member of the band they had just seen perform, and Eskild does the same. When Even invites them to hang out with Sonja, Magnus and Mahdi immediately disappear. It seems like Jonas is the only one excited to do so.

Isak follows Jonas into a smaller room in the back. When they enter, it’s only Sonja and two other guys, Isak assumes they are the Magnuson brothers.

 

“William.”

 

“Nikolai.”

 

They introduce themselves to Jonas and Isak when they enter the room. After they’re seated, Sonja immediately picks their conversation back up. It’s something about touring and travelling that Isak doesn’t bother paying attention to. He stays silent sipping from his beer while he watches Jonas talk with them. He doesn't say anything about the amount of beers Jonas has gone through, even if he wants to.

After what seems like hours, Sonja finally has to take a call, and Magnus leaves with her. Even’s still silently seated across from him; he hasn’t said much of anything either. The other brother, Nikolai is there too. Isak’s been trying to ignore his eyes all night. Mahdi was right, he is weird.

 

“Your boyfriend's awfully quiet.” Nikolai says aloud to Jonas like Isak isn’t sitting directly across from him.

 

“It’s been a long day.” Jonas shrugs, his words slurring together.

 

Isak can tell by the way his eyes are threatening to shut that he’s really drunk.

 

“First time playing at festival?” He asks.

 

Jonas nods his head.

 

“Just wait until you play,” He smirks leaning back into the couch, “after people see you’re in a band, the amount of groupies that look for you afterwards is fucking unbelievable.”

He laughs loudly. Mouth twisting evilly; he looks like an actual movie villain. Isak wants to leave, but Jonas laughs too, but not as loudly as Nikolai does.

 

“We don’t have groupies.” Jonas sighs

 

Isak doesn’t know how Jonas is remaining so calm when everything Nikolai says makes him want to crawl out of his skin. He assumes it has to do with the amount of alcohol he’s had.

 

“No one’s come up to you yet, even after shows?” Nikolai questions in disbelief.

 

Jonas shakes his head, “Nope. Plus, I already have a boyfriend.”

 

Nikolai shrugs, That’s just details. They don’t care about that.”

 

When he leans forward, eyes meeting Isak’s, Isak tries to look away.

 

“How about I spend a few of ours your way and in return,” Nikolai pauses turning to look at Isak wetting his lips before he continues, “you let me borrow your boy here for the night.” He smirks hand slowy moving to sit on Isak’s leg.

 

Once his fingers curl around his thigh, Isak’s heart freezes. He can’t move, not even to push him off.

 

“What do you say?” He says lowly like he’s actually trying to sound seductive.

 

Isak’s waiting for Jonas to say something to get Nikolai away from him, but he doesn’t.

 

Instead it’s Even’s that makes the first one to move, “Nikolai.” he warns.

 

It maybe the first time he’s spoken tonight.

 

Isak watches Nikolai turn to face Even, his smile growing more sinister when he does.

 

“Relax, Even. I’ll make sure, to send him to you afterwards . You know these groupies, if you’re in a band, they’ll open their legs for-”

 

That’s all Nikolai gets to say before Even is rushing towards him with his fist raised. It happens so quick, Isak misses it when Even collides his knuckles into Nikolai cheek. He only witness when Nikolai falls backwards. It doesn't take long for Nikolai to regain his balance. Soon, he’s kicking the table in between them over so he can charge at Even. There’s quick movements and loud sounds of skin meeting bone, and all Isak sees is red.

 

He’s just standing there watching it happen in front him. Finally, Jonas is moving forward pushing them apart.

 

“It was just a joke.” He hears Nikolai yell from behind Jonas.

 

“You’re disgusting.” Even hisses threatening to punch him again.

 

“Even, calm down.” Jonas warns pushing him back trying to put more distance between them.

 

Even pushes Jonas back before spitting out a “Fuck you, Jonas.”

 

“What the fuck?” Jonas scoffs, “What’s up with you?”

 

“You didn’t even try to stop him!” He yells.

 

“It was just a joke.” He hears Nikolai repeat.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Even asks bringing the attention back to Isak. Yet, he can’t speak. Between the blood on Even’s knuckles and his bloody nose, he doesn’t want to. He can feel Jonas’ fingers curl around wrist, but he immediately pulls himself away.

It makes Jonas wince at his behavior, “Isak.”

 

“Fuck you, Jonas.” he scoffs pushing past him when he runs out the door.

He ignores Jonas, yelling out for him and the people staring at him as he lets the door slam behind him.

 

“Isak” he hears behind him as he’s cutting through crowds.

 

He suspects it must be Jonas chasing after him. Instead, it’s a bloodied Even that's stepping in front of him.

 

“Isak, are you alright?” He pants through sharp breathes.

 

“Fuck, look at you. Are _you_ alright?” Isak asks in return.

 

Even takes a step back unclenching his fists to stare at the back of his hand. He has dried blood painting the back of them.

 

“I didn’t even notice it.” He gasps quietly bringing his hand up to wipe at the matching blood under his nose.

 

“C’mon.” Isak says before he’s pulling them back in the direction of their camp.

 

It takes three water bottles and half a roll of toilet paper for Isak to scuob the blood of Even’s face. As mush as he tries to hold them back, Isak can hear the small winces he lets go of when Isak presses against his nose to harshly.

His face is painted a fainting shade of red, and his knuckles are still cracked, but he at least he doesn’t look like he was in a bar fight anymore.

 

“You should probably change your shirt.” Isak says staring at the drops of blood staining it.

 

As Even [lights ](https://68.media.tumblr.com/dd26ab0334dc18ebda940dfdaa1db35f/tumblr_op3o5xxnvP1wnbpj8o1_1280.jpg) up a cigarette, a small smile appears on his split lip, “another ploy to see me shirtless?”

 

“You caught me.” Isak sighs sitting next to him.

 

“Thanks.” He says quietly watching Even flick his half finished cigarette out of his hands.

 

“I hate that guy.”

 

“Is he always like that?”

 

“Yea,” Even nods, “the only reason he’s still in the band is because they have him signed into a contract.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Isak ignores the vibration in his pocket, knowing they’re probably from [Jonas](https://68.media.tumblr.com/d580f8e813c0d7048052848913aafaff/tumblr_op122vO7FS1wnbpj8o1_540.jpg) . But Jonas is probably is the last person he wants to talk to right now.

 

“C’mon.” Even says standing up waiting for Isak to the same.

 

“Where are we going?” Isak asks not entirely feeling in the festival mood.

 

“We’re not going to sit here when we’re at In The Park.” Even argues, grabbing Isak’s hand to pull him to his feet, “Especially when Catfish

and The Bottlemen are playing on the main stage in thirty minutes.”

 

“Who?” Isak asks not recognizing the band Even has just mentioned.

 

Even only smiles a “you’ll see” before he’s tugging Isak along in the direction of the crowd.

 

***

 

They get to the main stage while the previous band is performing their last song. Even makes it his mission to elbow through the crowd until they get to the barricade. It works, but that doesn’t mean they don’t receive sharp looks and harsh comments when they push past someone.

When Isak see’s the stage, it’s different than all the bars and rooms he’s seen the band play in. There’s a real stage with actual stage lights and speakers larger than the van.

Even repeatedly asks Isak if he’s okay, considering the amount of people they’re surrounded and being pushed into. Most of him is shielded by Even from where he’s standing behind Isak, arms caged around his sides to hold onto the railing. It takes a while between the sets for the band to set up their equipment. He’s completely forgotten he’s still wearing a flower crown until Even’s pulling at the loose strands of the plastic flower stems.

 

Isak doesn’t move as Even readjusts it, so it sits nicely over his hair tucked safely behind his ears.

 

“Never take this off.” Even whispers as he takes a step back so he can stare at Isak in it.

 

Isak may roll his eyes, but a part of him never wants to especially if it means Even will continue looking at him like.

 

“You’re gonna love this band” Even promises, “they’re my favorite.”

 

The sound of excited chatter floats through the air with the music that starts from the speakers. The crowd immediately roars when the band comes on stage. Isak still can’t recognize them, but Even’s cheering like a huge fan. When they begin playing, the crowd echos the songs. He listens trying to hear the lyrics; the songs are capture his attention, but Isak can’t bring himself to listen properly. Especially, when Even seems consumed by the song. All he can pay attention to is Even singing like he's got the words forcing their way out of him.

He sounds different than the voice he uses when he sings his own songs. Isak needs to make sure the hears this more often because it might officially be Isak’s favorite sound.

The crowd squeezes closer, halfway through the set making Even start to actually hang off of him. When their transitioning songs, Even turns to face him.

 

“This song reminds me of you,” he whispers, voice slightly hoarse from singing.

 

And Isak finally starts paying attention to something that isn’t Even, only because Even's basically confessing something here.

The song plays and the lights flash red matching the beat of the guitar. He can already feel Even dancing behind him, jumping and swaying with the bass.

It when the chorus drops that things become intense.

 

_I see your eyes reflecting me_

_I see your lifestyle affecting me_

 

Even sings deep and low right into Isak’s ear. His hands holding his hips, moving Isak’s body with his.

Isak can’t breathe not when the hands moving lower on his hip are, bringing him closer to the body behind him. Isak doesn’t care that he can’t find any air around them, all he wants is to be brought closer and closer. He can’t keep up.

Pressure’s building up in his system; he feels heavy like he’s suffocating under the thudding and erratic movements. He has to bite his lip hard from shouting because it’s a lot.

 

_Rip me off, high as a cloud_

_And leave that taste in my mouth_

 

Isak finally turns around so he can look at Even. Even holds him at his sides, so he’s backed against the barricade. Isak stares for a few minutes watching the light play over Even’s skin. It skin looks so pretty, like its twinkling and glowing.

They’re swaying a little to the music, even though it’s not really made for slow dancing. It’s feels like such a cliché moment; Isak doesn’t mind though. The music seems to only play in the background as they stare at each other, the lyrics still coming out of Even’s mouth.

He sings, lips so close to Isak’s that Isak only has to tilt his chin up to close the gap between them.

They kiss in time, to the words of the song, letting the world drip around them.

And then he completely forgets they’re in the crowd because Even’s wrapping his warm arms around Isak’s waist and breathing into, his neck, pressing a soft kiss there too. Things have certainly escalated quickly, but Even doesn’t push him any further. He does, however, softly sing the words of the song into the juncture between Isak’s neck and shoulder, sending a shiver down his spine.

 

_Oxygen’s overrated_

_I don’t even need to breathe_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the comments and kudos and everything in between! <3  
> 


	7. Tyrants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things escalate.  
> song: Tyrants by Catfish and the Bottlemen  
> (mentioned: Too Young by Dagny)

_No more words_

_just bring your body close_

 

Isak can hear the song hum from the speakers from where they’re squeezed next to each other in the backseat of the van. He makes a mental note to remember this song. Although, it’s more static than melody, Isak wants to live in this moment, in this song, forever.

 

Even kisses him, slow at first. He’s careful not to angle his face in a way that places too much pressure on his bruised noise. But, he still presses Isak’s wrists over his head and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him like it’s his last chance, and Isak tries not to think about it probably being

He can’t keep up; between his warmth of his tongue his thumbs pressing into the underside of his wrists, it's like it's too much and he can’t breathe. He has to twist and shift until Even's pulls back giving him just enough time to refill his lungs before Even’s nosing at his lips again.

 Even’s bigger and heavier and stronger and Isak can feel it in the way his weight pushes onto him. He’s pinned between Even’s chest and the flat car seat, but he doesn't want to be anywhere else. He doesn’t even mind the seat belt digging into his lower back.  

 

Even slides a hand up and grips at his chin, holding his face just the way he wants it. His mouth is soft and warm, and maybe it's Isak that can't get enough. Their mouths are pressed together so tightly, Isak can feel the split lip indention when he kisses him.

 

Yet, he needs more, wants more. But Even’s doing nothing more than keeping their lips together from where he’s lying between Isak’s thighs. Isak groans then, quiet, but unmistakable, and presses in closer to kiss Even ,clumsy and with want. Then, Isak lifts his bent knees even higher, so they’re sitting on Even’s hips, getting Even right where he wants him. With his neck strained, he chases Even’s lips when he finally pulls them apart. Isak feels Even’s fingers free his hands. Along with the weight coming off his ribs from Even pushing himself off him. Before he can't fully detach himself from the boy underneath him because Isak’s pulling on his jacket, fingers gripping the collar.

 

Isak’s heart is beating so loudly in his ears that he wonders if Even can hear it.

 

He can already see it, when he looks at Even; the wild, but regretful look in Even’s eyes when they finally meet his. And he can already hear the apology Even is forming and threatening him with when his lips part. So, before Even can find his voice, Isak’s pushing on his shoulders so he can climb on top of him. And then, he’s licking the words off of Even’s tongue.

 

“Ssh,” Isak whispers against his lips.

 

When he rolls them over, settling himself on top of him, Even’s reaching up, fingers slotting through his curl with strong arms. He tugs hard enough that the sharp ache Isak feels in his scalp sends shivers through him. Bringing their foreheads together, he lets his lips hover over Isak’s.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Even hisses, “You. You don't even know what you do to me.”

 

He doesn’t finish. And Isak doesn't care because he's busy pressing down into Even's sharp hip bones. Isak slides his hands down Even’s chest, dragging his nails down his skin through the fabric. When he meets the bottom of his shirt, he skims his other hand up under Even’s thin t-shirt. When he begins to slide up towards his chest, Even’s immediately curling his fingers around his wrists pulling them out from underneath his clothing.

 

“Easy, baby.” He breathes out with a hand on Isak’s back.

 

This time Even’s pulling them apart for good, laying on his side, so Isak can’t climb on top of him. Isak must look as disappointed as he feels because Even moves forward to press a quick peck on his lips. Then, a reassuring hand when he pushes his hair behind his ear.

 

“We don’t want to do that” is all he says.

 

Isak holds back the “yea, I do”, letting himself settle down. Neither of them want to mention the obvious fact.

 

Instead, he focuses on the drying perspiration on Even’s swollen upper lip. He wants so badly to run his fingers through, but he doesn’t. He can’t push past the clear boundary Even’s creating between them.

 

“Why don’t you ever talk about yourself?” Even asks, the question startling him.

 

Isak only shrugs, “my life’s not as interesting as yours.”

 

His comment makes Even roll his eyes, “I don’t know anything about you.”

 

“What do you want to know?”

 

“Tell me something, anything.” Even begs.

 

So, Isak does. He tells him about the time he moved out his parents house at sixteen and how he knew it’d rip a hole in his mother, but he did it anyway. Then, about the first boy he kissed back when he was in highschool, and still hated himself for being gay. And once he told Even, he couldn’t keep it all from spilling out of his mouth.

 

But Even listened, holding onto him so tight, Isak though it was that pressure pushing the stories out. By the time Isak runs out of things to say, the van’s dark. Moonlight is spilling into the window, silver streaks cutting up Even’s face between shadows.

 

“You probably didn’t want to hear all that.” Isak murmurs when he realizes how long he’s talked and everything he’s just revealed.

 

“I did, though.” Even promises, thumb rubbing at the back of Isak’s neck, “thanks for telling me it.”

 

He speaks so quietly that it makes Isak blush. Gently he moves forward, tilting his chin, reaching for a kiss. Like magnets, the closer he comes, the further Even pulls away.

 

“Even.” Isak pleads, “I regret so many things, but don’t make me regret this,” He whispers, “not tonight, don’t let me regret this tonight.”

 

Isak can hear the desperation in his own voice, and if he wasn’t so in need of it, it would probably embarrass him. But he can’t bring himself to care. Especially when it gets Even to nod and bring their lips together.

 

It’s nothing more than that. The gentle pressure of lips and tongue, all going to Isak’s head. So dizzying that when his eyes fall shut they don’t reopen.

 

***

  


Morning brings sunlight through rain streaked windows and the dull whispering of Even from the front seat. Isak pretends to be asleep while he listens to Even’s whispering. He doesn’t get to hear the conversation for very long before his own phone is vibrating loudly.

 

After he hears Even rush a “have to go” to the person on the other line, Isak reaches for his own mobile.

 

When “Jonas” flashes across the screen he ignores it, along with the dozen text messages the same boy has sent him.

 

“Good Morning.” Even tells him as he crawls to the back.

 

“Morning.” Isak yawns turning off his phone.

 

His eyes immediately land on the dark bruises coloring Even’s skin. They’ve settled, so they look worse than they did last night. They’re a Monet of runny reds and knotted purples- an angry reminder of yesterday’s chaos. Isak’s hand absentmindedly goes to touch it. When Even winces and pulls away from his touch, he tells himself it’s the bruising pain of the punch, not Isak.

 

To ease the tension, Even laughs, “I can’t believe this is how I’m going to look for my first festival.”

 

Isak laughs too, “You look really punk, if that helps.”

 

“It does. Thanks.”

 

There’s a long silence before Even’s telling him it’s almost 10 o’clock and they should get back to the camp site.

 

When they climb out the van, Isak’s fixing his clothes and zipping up his hoodie.

 

“Is something wrong?” Isak asks when he notices Even standing outside the van like he’s waiting for something.

 

“I don’t want you regret it.” He admits quietly, feet digging into the soft wet grass.

 

There are so many things Isak wants to say, and wishes he could. He knows he’s letting last night linger between them like an awkward rain cloud, but he just can’t get himself to push it away.

 

So all he can do is nod a  “I don’t” and lead them back to their tents silently.

 

When they get back, Noora immediately grips Even’s face, “Oh my god, they said it was bad, but they didn’t say it was this bad.”

 

“It’s fine, Noora.” Even lies prying her fingers from his jaw, “it doesn’t hurt at all.”

 

“I can cover it up with some makeup.” Vilde offers staring at the blemished skin.

 

“It’s fine.” Even shrugs, “I think it adds to our band.”

 

“It definitely makes you look tougher.” Mahdi teases punching Even’s shoulder.

 

“Maybe I should give you one then.” Even says back.

 

The light atmosphere Mahdi creates disappears when Jonas comes out the tent. He has beanie tucked over his hair and frown lines in his forehead. It’s painfully slow, how long it takes Jonas to meet Isak’s eyes. He’s nearly dragging his feet when he walks up to him , but before he can speak, Vilde is interrupting.

 

“They need you guys back stage for rehearsals now.”

 

“But I need to talk to Isak.” Jonas says.

 

“Jonas.” Vilde warns him, “Isak understands that as a band, we have to be on time to make a good impression.”

 

Vilde then turns to him, eyes narrowed waiting for him to agree with her.

 

“I do.” He finds himself nodding, but it sounds more like a question than a statement.

 

“You do. And that’s why it’s settled, you’ll talk later.” She says sharply through pursed lips, “we need to leave now.”

 

As the band makes their way, Jonas is turning back to look at Isak, “Meet me after the show, okay?”

 

As much as Isak wants to say no, Jonas’ eyes are silently begging him to say yes, so he does.

 

***

With the band away, Isak spends the day with Magnus, Eskild, Sana and Eva. As they’re laying in the one patch of dry grass listening to the echos of bands performing, Magnus speaks.

 

“Where did you and Even go last night?”

 

Isak can feel all their eyes on him while he tries to conjure up an excuse, “We crashed in one of the fields.” He lies.

 

“All night?”

 

Isak shakes his head.

 

“That’s weird,” He frowns, “Jonas looked everywhere for you.”

 

“Well, it was on the other side of the park.”Isak explains.

 

“Oh.” Magnus nods.

 

He can still see the disbelief in his face, but he’s glad that he lets it go.

“Did anything happen?” He asks more than happy to move on.

 

Isak watches them all exchange looks. Their eyes are wandering like they’re holding something back.

 

“What was it?” Isak impatiently says.

 

“Sonja.” Eva starts.

 

“She came looking for Even.” Sana continues.

 

“We don’t blame you, Isak, for what happened with Nicolai.” Eskild quickly jumps in, “We know how he can be when Sonja isn’t around.”

 

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Isak scowls, “Nicolai did that to me, I didn’t come on to him or whatever you’re thinking.”

 

“We know, we know.” Eskild reassures him.

 

It makes a feel a little bit better, but he still can’t figure out where they’re going with this.

 

“But Sonja.” Eskild carefully beings to explain, “doesn’t know you. She only knows Nicokali. And he’s her band mate.”

 

“And it doesn’t help that it was her boyfriend that defended you and beat up her bandmate.” Magnus adds earning him a stern yelled “Magnus” from everyone surrounding him.

 

“What was he suppose to do, sit back and let it happen?”

 

“That’s not what we’re saying.” Sana argues calmly, “In fact, we were all mad at Jonas for not doing anything.”

 

“Trust us, Noora was pretty brutal last night.” Eva informs him.

 

“Good” is all Isak says.

 

“And Sonja” Eskild says, “She’ll come around.”

 

“Just avoid her until then.” Magnus teases, but everyone knows it’s not a complete joke.

 

“I’m just glad someone finally beat him up.” Eva admits aloud.

 

“If I was Even, I would have done the same thing.”Eskild agrees.

 

Magnus finishes the conversation with a “Fuck Nickolai.”

 

There’s an awkward pause as they try to move away from the topic of Sonja and yesterday. It isn’t tell Eskild is offering to buy everyone drinks that they finally move from it.

 

***

 

When the band is finally set to play, they’re all allowed backstage slightly drunk. Except for Sana, who is already ready to ditch a very tipsy Eva into the nearest possible sofa.

 

When Isak sees the band, they look like proper rockstars. With clean clothes and fixed hair, you can't tell they’ve been living out of tents for three days. Their instruments look a lot nicer than they usually do. It’s hard to look away, especially because Isak’s busy staring at that one pace of hair falling in Even’s face.

 

They’re all freaking out though. Noora’s chewing her fingernails down to the bits, even Chris is giggling nervously through sips of beer. Jonas is readjusting his symbol pegs just to keep himself busy.

 

“5 minutes” someone on the stage crew tells them.

 

“Fuck!” Mahdi nervously echales, “I may actually have a heart attack.”

 

“Can it wait until after the show, Mahdi?” Vilde says.

 

She’s been so busy chasing down lights and sound guys that she might actually be more nervous than the band.

 

“Okay, Vilde. I’ll die after the show, just for you.” He scoffs unclenching his fists over and over again.

 

“Thanks, Mahdi.” Vilde says staring down at her phone, quickly typing away.

 

Isak’s watching Jonas nervously grip his drumsticks. He knows their current feud isn’t helping him relax at all. So, he puts it aside and walks over to him.

 

“I’m still mad at you.” He starts.

 

Jonas remains quiet, waiting for Isak to finish.

 

“But you look really fucking scared.”

 

“I’m fucking terrified.” Jonas agrees, “It’s like the first show all over again.”

 

“You're going to do great, Jonas.” Isak repeats.

 

Jonas is going to argue something when another stage handler comes, “It’s time, guys.”

 

Everyone quickly gathers in a circle for one last shot. After they all down it and yell “Prost”, Jonas grips Isak’s collar.

 

He kisses him hard and fast, but Isak doesn’t miss Even’s glare before he pulls away.

 

“Good luck.” Isak pants still wide-eyed and shocked.

 

They rush out, remaining behind the curtain as the band takes the stage. The crowd roars with clapping and hollering as Even introduces them.

 

“We’re a small band called In Tunes and we’d like to a couple of our songs for you if you don’t mind.” He announces receiving a louder cheer in response.

 

With one last “thank you”, the band begins.

 

They play their entire set of all seven songs. Isak can feel the intensity of the music and the crowd from behind the stage. With Eskild tugging on his hands and Magnus encouraging him to dance, they enjoy the concert. And so does the crowd.

 

Even knows exactly what to do to make the crowd scream; he’s a natural performer. Swaying with his guitar and breathing into the microphone only makes it that much better to watch.

 

Under the blazing sun and stage lights, they perform with everything they have them. Until sweat coats their bodies and they’re all out of breathe.  

 

Their last song blasts through the speakers, and they’re playing like it’s the last show they’ll ever play. When they walk off stage, they’re buzzing from the post-show high.

 

They’re giving band hugs and cheers Isak’s pretty sure the crowd can hear. They’re saying nothing, but incoherent variations of , “Can you believe that just happened” and “I can’t breathe, I’m still shaking.”

 

After they’ve finally stopped shaking, Magnus is trying to find them a party. When they’ve located one on the opposite side of the park, Jonas declines their invitation.

 

“Isak and I are going to stay behind.” He speaks for the both of them.

 

No one tries to convince Jonas otherwise, not even Magnus. So, Isak follows Jonas back to their tent, while everyone else tracks down the party.

 

Before they head off, Even mouths him an “are you okay” that Isak quickly nods at. However, that still doesn’t get the uneasy smile to leave Even’s face as he watches him leave with Jonas.

 

***

  


Isak remains silent, sitting crossed leg in the corner of the tent as Jonas changes. He peels of his concert, sweat drenched clothing to replace it  with sweats and a t-shirt. Isak watches with slight amazement as Jonas transforms from “punk rocker Jonas” to the Jonas in front of him now.

 

After a few moment, Jonas finally joins him on the floor, eyes unable to meet Isak’s.

 

“How are you?” is the first thing he asks Isak.

 

“What do you think Jonas?” He snorts, eyes rolling to match his attitude.

 

“Right,” Jonas sighs, “that’s a stupid question.”

 

It seems like Jonas is struggling to figure out what to say. With his brows furrowed, he’s frowning at his hands.

 

So, Isak finds the courage and speaks for him, “it was fucked up. What you did.”

 

Jonas frantically shakes his head, “I know. Last night, I couldn’t even sleep. I just kept thinking about what happened.”

 

“Why did you,” Isak says quietly diverting his eyes to the floor of their tent, “Why didn’t you do anything?”

 

“Fuck, Isak.” He winces, “I remember it happening and it felt like I was there, but I wasn’t. Like an out of body experience or something.”

 

“I’m sorry,” He finally apologizes, “I’m so sorry, Isak.”

 

Isak only nods swallowing the lump at the back of his throat. Between Jonas’ broken voice and his sincerity, Isak tries to hold his stoicism.

 

“Every time time I think about Nikoli doing _that_ , I feel sick.” Jonas continues, “I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if Even hadn’t been there.”

 

After Jonas says it, Isak feels himself grow uncomfortable. He tries not to think about Even with Jonas looking at him. He’s been so distracted by everything that’s happened today, guilty hasn’t flooded him, until now.

 

“I know I’m not in a position to be asking.” Jonas starts, and Isak already knows his question, but nonetheless, he lets Jonas ask it.

 

“Last night, when no one could find you two, did anything happen?”

 

“No.” Isak yells a little too quickly and loudly that it makes Jonas raise an eyebrow.

 

Then Isak hears Jonas say, “I wouldn’t blame you if something did.”

And It makes his heart stop and his eyes widen.

 

“W-what?”

 

“After everything that happened, he was there for you,” Jonas shrugs, “And he’s a cool guy.”

 

Isak’s face flushes red and he actually groans aloud, “Jonas, what the fuck?”

 

“He is.” Jonas laughs moving closer so he can sit beside Isak.

 

He lets the smile fade from his lips as he goes on, “I don’t want _this_ to interrupt something you want.”

 

“This.” Isak repeats like it’s the only word that can sum up the last few months.

 

Before Isak can swallow it down, he’s blurting it out, “And what is this, Jonas?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Isak’s hands fly up, “all of this.” he says, “with Even.”

 

Instead of answering him, Jonas shrugs, “Do you not like it?”

 

Isak nearly swallows his tongue trying to find a response, “It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

 

“Why does have to make sense” is all Jonas replies with.

 

“Because” Isak grunts, “are you gay?”

 

Jonas laughs noticing his friend's erratic behavior, “What does being gay have to do with it?”

 

Isak glares at him not bothering to respond.

 

“Okay.” Jonas says in all seriousness, “I don’t know, maybe I’m bi or whatever.”

 

Isak tries not to let his confusion show as Jonas moves closer to him.

 

“It’s good, what we have. Let’s worry about about the details later.” He says his voice dropping octaves.

 

“Jonas” Isak whispers watching his mouth come closer to Isak’s until there’s nothing, but a breath between them.

 

It’s different now. Jonas kisses back lazily and opens up Isak’s mouth gently and kisses into it, no clicking teeth, no biting, just the sloppy press of their lips and tongues together until Isak pulls away, breathing hard.

 

“What are we doing?” He wonders a loud.

 

A smirk crosses Jonas’ face as he moves over Isak, pressing him onto their sleeping bags.

 

“This.” Jonas says with a smile and Isak hesitates for a moment, doubts himself, but then Jonas recaptures his lips in a kiss anyway. Isak kisses back, but he’s softer, following Jonas’ lead.

 

“And this is?” Isak says in between kisses and gulps of air.

 

“This” Jonas starts staring down below at Isak who’s flushed and panting under him. He grinds down, half a smirk on his face, and Isak gasps, eyes fluttering and lips parting.

 

Isak looks up at him, grinning, feeling stupid but also amazed that he’s doing this with Jonas, that Jonas is actually making him feel this way. He rolls his hips, riding up a little, his erection wedged between his stomach and Jonas’ thigh.

 

“This” Jonas picks up again, “this is how we roll.”

 

His words accentuated with his hips rocking down.

 

“ _Roll_.” Isak repeats, groaning as he feels Jonas pressed against him.

 

Jonas is still on top of Jonas when the zipper of their tent is being slowly opened.

 

“Shit, sorry.” Even quickly apologizes when he sees the scene in front of him.

 

“It’s alright, come in.” Jonas chuckles moving off Isak, who’s too embarrassed trying to cover the visible rise in his jeans.

 

“I can come back if you too are busy.” He quickly explains already backing out their tent’s opening.

 

“We’re not busy.” Jonas says like he isn’t trying to ignore the fire building in his stomach as well.

 

After a moment, Even steps in, zipping their slip back up.

 

“I want to thank you.”Jonas starts breaking their silence, “I was wrong for not doing anything. We were lucky you were there.”

 

“I didn’t do it for you.” Even mumbles, underlying tension in his voice that makes it even harder for Isak to sit there.

 

Instead, he focuses on Jonas’ hand on his knee and not the fact that he was doing this exactly 24 hours ago with Even.

 

“I know,” Jonas admits, “But I owe you anyway.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Isak watches Even pull at his shoe strings, not bothering to continue their conversation. Isak wonders why he came to their tent in the

first place.

 

“How’s living with Mahdi and Magnus?” Jonas aks refusing to let them sit in silence.

 

The corner of Even’s mouth twists into a smile, “Magnus snores and Mahdi kicks everything within leg’s reach. I’d rather sleep outside.”

 

HIs hand slides higher up Isak’s leg until it’s seated on his thigh.

 

“There’s room for you here.” Jonas subtly reminds him.

 

“We can share.” He proposes staring at Even as he says it.

 

Even’s eyes only leave Jonas’ when he hears Isak gasp.

 

When Isak makes a little noise, Even looks over to realize that Jonas’ hand has now disappeared beneath Isak’s shirt. He sees Even swallow his anger as he follows Jonas’s hand. He watches it slide down Isak’s stomach, fingertips playing with the top of his jeans. His hand slips lower, and Isak’s hips rock up towards it, his eyes closing.

 

They only open when he hears Jonas speak, “You don’t have to stay if you don't want to.”

 

Then, Isak hears the loud grinding of his metal zipper being pulled down.

 

“If you do, you don't have to just sit there.”

 

His eyes slip shut when Jonas pushes his hand inside the opening. He feels Jonas’ heavy hand curl around, and it takes everything in him not to cry out when Jonas’ palm presses down. Isak can hear is jagged pants fill the tent’s silence. They catch in his throat when Jonas’ lowers his mouth to his neck, sucking bruises into the thrumming space between the column of Isak’s neck and his jaw.

 

With his eyes closed, he almost forgets Even’s there until cold fingertips brush against the corner of his lips. He opens them to find Even in front of him watching him. And Isak can’t stay expressionless. Especially with Jonas’ hand stroking him with just enough pressure that it makes him spread his legs a little wider.

 

It’s all just a blur of skin and fabric from then on, fumbling hands with his shirt and his pants, denim being tossed away. With Jonas’ lips on his neck and Even’s lips on his own, he can only focus on the pleasure pulsing through him.

 

Jonas can hear the moans Isak’s panting into Even’s mouth. He's letting out low and quick gasps in between Even's kisses. They grow louder when Jonas’s hand moves faster. Until Isak can’t do anything to quiet them, and he buries his face into Even’s neck and tries to _breathe_. His teeth meet Even’s collarbones when he comes, muffling his moans as he settles his breathing. After Jonas pulls his hands out his pants, he’s wiping it on Isak’s discarded shirt with a smug smile.

“That as fun.” He hears Jonas say.

 

His eyes are shut but wishes he could have seen the look on Even’s face when Jonas says it. He can only assume he feels Even take the spot in front of him when he feels Jonas take the spot behind him. He can already feel the fabric sticking to his inner thighs, but his limbs feel too heavy to move. So, he ignores it, deciding to fall asleep with the warmth of the two bodies he’s pressed up against, ignoring the night wind blowing across his bare chest.

 

***

 

Even’s not there when Isak wakes up, too early for his liking too. Jonas’ isn’t there either, though. He can hear everyone outside the tent shuffling their things loudly. It’s the day they leave,but Isak didn’t realize they were leaving so early.

 

The sky is still dark so Isak dresses blindly. He’s glad he’s alone so no sees how badly he blushes when he changes his boxers, stuffing them to the very bottoms of his bag.

 

When he walks out, Jonas’ smile is there to meet him

 

“Ready to go home?” He asks.

 

Isak nods, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. He notices their campsite has already been deconstructed. Only their tent remains.

 

“Figured you wanted to sleep in.” Jonas explains when he notices Isak staring at their tent

 

Jonas’ smirk not only makes Isak’s cheeks flare red, but his entire body flush with embarrassment as well.

 

“Jonas” He hears Mahdi yell, “Bring the rest of the equipment, we’re ready to go.”

 

“Where’s Even, aren’t we waiting for him.” Jonas yells back quickly breaking their tent down.

 

When Mahdi walks over, he helps grab some of their bags before he answers, “He didn’t tell you/”

 

Jonas frowns obviously unaware what Mahdi’s talking about.

 

“He’s staying with Sonja for an extra day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sending so much appreciation and love out to everyone reading and supporting this. you all are so kind!! sorry if this offends anyone! thanks for reading! let me know what you think! <3  
> 


	8. Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a mess. there's some graphic smut, so if it makes you uncomfortable feel free to skip it!  
> song: Collide by Catfish and the Bottlemen  
> (song quoted Honey by Moose Blood)

The first time Jonas mentions it, they're trying the new burger place a block away from their place.

 

He starts it off with an innocent “I forgot to ask”  while looking at his phone one last time, before he’s putting it face down on the table.

 

“How did it go with your mom?”

 

As Jonas waits for an answer, he stares at Isak.

 

“It went fine.” Isak answers with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

 

He busies himself by picking apart his burger just so he doesn't have to look at his friend anymore.

 

“You did go and visit her, right?”

 

“I told you I did.” Isak grunts.

 

“That’s what you told me.” Jonas says and Isak thinks he's going to drop it, but then Jonas continues.

 

“She texted me, Isak.” Jonas tells him, “She really wants to see you.”

 

Isak remains silent, so he can hear Jonas sigh at his lack of response.

 

“Have you seen her since she’s been there?” Jonas asks, his voice a little softer.

 

“I have.” He argues back even though they both know it's a lie.

 

“She told me you haven't.”

 

“She probably doesn't remember, you know how she is.”

 

“Isak” is all Jonas can say after that.

 

He’s no longer interested in the food in front of him, but he takes the largest bite he can just so he avoid the conversation.

 

When Jonas clears his voice and leans forward with a very stern look, Isak knows what we he says is going be serious.

 

And it is.

 

“You need to go and visit her.” Jonas says.

 

Isak chews slowly trying to slow down Jonas’ order with the incredibly large bite of cheeseburger he's just consumed.

 

Yet, it doesn't matter how slow he chews, because Jonas is prepared to wait forever for his response.

 

So, he swallows the metaphorical and actual lump in his throat and answers, “I’m not going to that place.”

 

His voice is sharp and defensive and Isak knows he sounds bratty.

 

“I'm being serious Isak.”

 

It's enough that Isak knows Jonas is messing around. It evident in his face. His features stoic and his lips flat, without any hesitation.

 

“I’m not going.” Isak repeats, his words harsher than they need to be.

 

“Isak, there’s nothing wrong-” Jonas begins to say, but Isak refuses to listen to the rest of it.

 

Before Jonas can finish, Isak is pushing himself away from the table, not caring about the scene he’s creating. Somewhere in the background, he can hear Jonas call after him, but he doesn’t let it stop him. When he gets back to their place, he slams his bedroom door. Jonas isn't there to hear it, but the clashing door and rage matches the anger can feel in his fists.

 

***

 

Isak only wakes up because of the light tapping on his door, hours later.

 

“Isak” he hear Jonas say through the wood, his voice already sounds like an apology, “can I come in?”

 

Except, Jonas doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s twisting the door handle, pushing it open. He walks in with a sympathetic smile. Isak moves as far away as he possibly can when Jonas takes the place next to him on his mattress.

 

Jonas allows the silence to settle around them before he starts, “I’m sorry.”

 

Isak continues staring at the ceiling, unsure if he should accept the apology or not.

 

“Stop texting my mom” is all he says instead.

 

He hears Jonas laugh breathily, “Then start texting her back. Or better yet, go see her, so I don’t have to text her just to let her know you’re still alive.”

 

There’s an underlying frustration in his voice from his honesty that Isak knows Jonas is trying to hide and tiptoe around.

 

When Isak doesn’t respond, Jonas is softening his voice and expression, “I’ll go with you, if you want.”

 

That finally gets Isak to look at Jonas. He meets his eyes and can feel the gentleness in them enveloped him like a wave of warmth.

 

“Okay,” Isak agrees, “but not today.”

 

“Okay.” Jonas takes it, “but soon.”

 

“Soon.” Isak promises.

 

***

 

Unfortunately for Isak, soon comes two days later. Perhaps, if Isak would have known that, he would have stayed in bed. Instead, he got up, made them both coffee with burnt toast, and retreated to Jonas’ room with full hands.

 

“You made me breakfast?” Jonas teases with a toothy, sleepy grin when he sees Isak sit on the foot of his bed.

 

Isak may roll his yes, but he has to press his mug to his lips to hide the smile spreading across them.

 

“Still no practice today?” Isak asks as they’re chewing dry toast.

 

“I texted Noora,” Jonas swallows, “apparently, Even’s away dealing with something?”

 

“With what?” Isak asks trying to keep it casual, even though he hasn’t seen Even since they’ve come home. So, four whole days.

 

Jonas shrugs, “I don’t know, they didn’t say.”

 

Isak’s eyes drop to his mug watching the dark liquid reflect his image. He watches the small ripples of his drink gently move when Jonas lowers himself back on the mattress. He tucks both hands under his head, letting the duvet fall around his torso.

 

“What do you want do today?”

 

It’s the same question Jonas has asked him everyday since they’ve come back. He’s always doing something, which inevitably means Isak is forced to go along too. They’ve tried every small diner and cafe in a ten mile radius, visited the music center twice, the skate park nearly everyday and saw a local band performing at the bar three blocks away. Isak thinks it’s Jonas’ way of coping with their lack of practices and concerts. It’s like he can see Jonas’ finger itch every time he walks by his drum set, which hasn’t been played for at least 2 days. For Jonas, that equates and feels like 2 weeks. Although Isak’s glad for the silence, even uhg he knows it’s just temporary.

It’s like Jonas hasn’t lost that post-festival high and he’s ricocheting in the apartment and their neighborhood trying to uncoil and unwind. He’s nonstop energy and all Isak want to do is make him _slow down._

 

“We don’t have to do anything today.” Isak starts placing his half full cup of coffee onto the nightstand next to Jonas’ bed.

 

“Do you want to go today?” Jonas asks and even though he says nothing more, Isak knows what he’s talking about.

 

“Not really.” Isak admits.

 

He hears Jonas sigh, “Why not?”

 

Isak tries to come up with an excuse, but he’s brains is three steps behind him this morning. 

 

So he swings his leg across Jonas so he can move on top of him, “because I want to do this.”

 

This time, it’s Jonas who looks startled from where he’s laying underneath Isak. Usually it’s Jonas with the wandering lips on his neck and the suggested hands on the small of his back. So when it’s Isak pulling up his shirt slowly, letting the fabric drag across his stomach so painfully slow that it feels like it’s cutting through his skin, it makes Jonas’ breath hitch.

He stares as Isak moves closer, only letting his eyes close when their mouths find each other. Isak lets himself bury into Jonas when he kisses him deeper. They only break apart when Jonas tugs off Isak’s shirt and his own, so they’re chests radiate when they touch. So much skin that Isak can’t get enough of it; Jonas’s chest and broad shoulders, and t sweat and heat pulsing underneath his fingertips, evyetime he touches him.

Then it’s not just his hands wandering across Jonas’ torso. He kisses at his shoulder, neck and jaw before he moves down.

 

“Wait,” Jonas stops them, “we weren’t finished with that conversation.”

 

“Shut up, Jonas.” Isak rolls his eyes, crashing their mouths out together, the conversation lost between their tongues.

 

Jonas keeps his hands light on the Isak’s waist, but when Isak decided to roll his waist back, ass pressing against Jonas, he feels Jonas grip harder. Jonas catches on quickly, meeting him just as quickly, and breathlessly. Jonas uses the hand he has around him to pull Isak back from his hips and push his own forward to grind up against him.

 

Then Isak is lifting himself up, supporting himself with his arms so he can move further down. He traces all over him with his mouth. Across his chest, down his stomach, and then right above the waistband of Jonas’ shorts, until Isak’s fingers are curling underneath them.

 

He’s gently sliding them down Jonas’ hips when he captures his wrist. Isak's eyes immediately look up and find Jonas’ waiting for him.

 

“Isak” Jonas says so quietly that he can hear the breaths he has to take just to steady his breathing.

 

So, Isak lets his eyelashes flutter, and his lips part. And Jonas must understand what it all means, because he’s exhaling a deep “fuck”, and letting Isak’s hand go.

 

If Isak stills hard enough, he thinks he can hear and feel Jonas’ vibrate, it’s like trying to keep himself from moving.

 

“Eager?” Jonas finally speaks, when he finally can.

 

Isak smirks, pulling Jonas's pants sown his legs, when he answers back, "looks like I’m not the only one.”

 

Jonas laughs trying to speak, but Isak can hear him stutter on his words when exhales slowly, letting his breath spread over him.

 

Jonas brings his hand to rest at the back of Isak’s head. He’s not pushing him, but it’s the gentle pressure reminding him that he could, and a little bit of him wants Jonas to.

 

He takes Jonas in, letting his tongue feel the warmth pulsating between his lips. Isak looks up at him, with his lips stretched tight. He keeps in one hand curled tight around Jonas’s cock, stroking what he can't fit in. Jonas lets out a little unsteady sound, his hips twisting with the flick of Isak's tongue.

 

It’s only when he’s worked up a steady rhythm that Jonas is pushing on his shoulders.

 

“We still have to talk about visiting your mom.” Jonas reminds him, breathing harshly, like every word is painful to say.

 

At the mention Isak pulls off, lips wet from Jonas, and, it looks like Jonas almost regrets saying it.

 

“Serious? That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” Isak spits out, using the back his hand to wipe his mouth, the upturned quirk of his lips still reddened and slightly swollen, and he's blushing.

 

Jonas props himself on his elbows, so he can look at Isak when he answers, “To be fair, I was thinking about it before you decided to do this.”

 

Isak may actually groan, “Fine” he huffs,” let's go now, then.”

 

“Now?” Jonas nearly shouts.

 

He’s so hard, he can’t feel his legs, let alone get up to leave.

 

Isak moves backwards so he can sit on his feet, “You wanted to leave so badly, so let's go.”

 

It’s a cruel move, and Isak think Jonas is going to cave in and let them continue, but he doesn’t.

 

“Fine.” He sighs, wincing when he has to pull his shorts back up, “Let's go.”

 

Isak frown, “You might want to take a shower first.” He scoffs letting his eyes drop to the visible erection Jonas is trying to conceal.

Jonas only smirks moving closer so he can press one last quick kiss on Isak’s lip.

 

“And you might want to brush your teeth” is all he says before he’s disappearing into the bathroom.

 

When Isak hears the shower goes on, he laughs to himself, but the realization he suddenly faces makes him stop.

 

***

 

“We should get her flowers.” Jonas suggests trying to ease the tension he can feel Isak trying to hide.

 

“Okay." Isak says because it’s the only thing he can.

 

They get a half-dead bouquet of yellow lilies from a gas station when they’re 10 minutes away from the facility. Isak stares at the browning petals as they sit in the parking lot. This time, Jonas doesn’t say anything, not even to urge Isak inside. Instead, he waits, letting them sit in a comfortable silence until Isak decides he’s ready. Jonas listens, even when all Isak can give him is silence.

 

 

“Are you nervous?” Jonas asks so quietly, Isak not really sure he’s said anything at all until he feels Jonas’ eyes on him.

 

His voice quivers when he answers, “Ask me after it’s over.”

 

A gentle smile tugs on Jonas’ lips, “Okay.”

 

When his hands have finally stopped shaking, he opens his car door. Jonas is next to him as they walk through the glass entrance. The first thing Isak notices when he walks in is the smell of disconnect and some cheap air neutralizers that’s suppose to be reminiscent of lavender or some other bullshit smell, but all it does is sting Isak’s nose when he inhales it.

 

“We’re here to see Mrs. Valtersen.” he hears Jonas say when they reach the front desk, but Isak’s heart is beating too loudly in his ears that Jonas’ voice sounds distant.

 

If it weren’t for Jonas’ hand on his shoulder, he wouldn’t believe Jonas was next to him.

 

He can’t breathe when they’re standing in front of the room. Her back is turned from them, so Isak thinks if he moves fast enough, he could leave and she’d never know he was there.

 

Except can’t even breathe, let alone get his legs to work. So when she turns around and smiles, Isak doesn’t move. It her that moves closer, wrapping her hands around him.

 

Isak still can’t breathe, even when the pressure from her hug is off his chest. It’s not until he hears Jonas’ voice that he’s pulled back out of himself.

 

“Hi, mom.” he finally says.

 

***

 

It’s award and intense and every other word that describes constantly feeling like you want to leave, but you know you need to stay. Luckily, Jonas does much of the talking. He fills the silence with rambling about his band, their new place, the concerts they’ve played at, he even tells her about their landlord becoming their fan. And all Isak can do is try to laugh at the right times and stop himself from looking at the row of pill bottles stacked on top of her dresser.

 

She looks better though. She’s not so think and when she laughs, it doesn’t sound so hallow, but that doesn't make anything hurt any less.

 

They stay until a nurse walks in to announce visiting times are over. Isak feels guilty from the sigh of relief he lets out when she does.

 

“It was so good to see you, Isak” She smiles, her frail arms coming back around him to hug him, “please come visit me again.”

 

Isak nods, letting Jonas talk for him, “we'll come back as soon as we can.”

 

“I bet you will.”She smiled pressing a peck to Jonas’ cheek.

 

They all say goodnight, and Jonas practically has to sprint to keep up with Isak on their way out.

 

“Alright?”Jonas asks once they’re back inside his car.

 

Isak nods, blinking back tears. He keeps his back to Jonas when he feels them begin to fall. If Jonas does notice him crying, he doesn’t mention it, but Isak thinks he understand when Jonas turns the radio on so loud that Isak’s sure his sobs are covered.

 

Isak’s eyes are red and his eyelids are swollen by the time they get back to their apartment. The dark sky offers some coverage, but the fluorescent bulb of the elevator only highlights them.

 

The only sound that follows them is Isak’s sniffling and Jonas’ keys rattling in his pocket. They’re met by the cold, stale air inside the apartment. Isak drags his feet, too tired to keep his eyes opened. His limbs are too heavy and his head's too clouded to make it on his own.

When he sits on the side of Jonas’ bed it takes everything left in him to raise his hands so Jonas can help pull his shirt off. And he's too tired to feel embarrassed that Jonas has to undress him further too.

 

When Jonas arms wrap around him, offering him warmth and comfort and everything in between, Isak greedily backs into it.

 

***

 

When Isak wakes up, their apartment is empty. When he finds the crumpled napkin next to him he understand why.

 

_Early band practice, didn't want to wake you. Be home later._

 

Isak’s momentarily Jonas is gone, but then he realizes that if they’re having band practice, it must mean Even is back. Before he can stop himself, he’s grabbing his phone.

 

**Isak**

(10:54 am)

Are you avoiding me?

We can forget all that stuff in the van

and with Jonas if you want.

**Even**

(11:02 am)

You haven't told Jonas have you?

**Isak**

(11:04 am)

No

**Even**

(11:05 am)

I'm not avoiding you

**Isak**

(11:06 am)

then where were you

**Even**

(11:08 1m)

dealing with some personal stuff

**Isak**

(11:09 1m)

with Sonja

**Even**

(11:10 am)

No, something else

**Isak**

(11:11 am)

Do you want to talk about it

**Even**

(11:11 am)

Yes but not right now.

**Isak**

(11:13 am)

when then

***

 

His answer comes two days later on a rainy Thursday in the form of Even walking through the front door of his coffee shop. With his hair wet and matted from the rain, and his skin red from the wind, he looks like breathtaking and Isak actually freezes.

 

“How are you?” Isak immediately asks.

 

“Jonas said you were here” Even begins, “he said your shift was ending.”

 

Isak glances at the clock hanging on the back wall. He’s surprised to find it's 10 minutes before his shift over.

 

“I can leave now.”He lies, not caring about the last few minutes.

 

“Are you sure?” Even asks.

 

Isak nods frantically, “Are we going back to mine?”

 

Even shakes his head, “Let's go to mine.”

 

***

 

They have to take the bus across town to get to Even’s. The building’s nothing new to Isak because he’s already spent hours in the basement, but when Even’s leading him up the stairs to the rooms, it feels different.

 

When they walk in, Even calls out for Santa checking to see if she’s home. When nothing, but silence calls back Even relaxes.

 

“How are you?” Isak asks again, this time in the soft glow of Even’s living room.

 

“Good” Even smiles warmly like this small talk isn’t killing him, “How are you?”

 

“Good” Isak answers, “When did you get back?”

 

“Yesterday” Even sighs, “Noora threatened to kick me out of the band if I didn’t show up for practice today?”

 

Isak laughs, partly because it’s the first time Even’s mouth has resembled anything close to a smile.

 

“Where were you?”

 

“I went home for a few days” Even admits, “I needed some time away from everything.”

 

“Oh. I hope it wasn’t because of me.”

 

“It was, but not in bad way.”

 

“Oh” is all Isak says, still upset over Even’s honesty.

 

“Look, Even, I-” Isak begins to say before Even’s jumping off the couch.

 

“I wanna play you something” Announces before he’s rushing into his room, coming back out with his guitar.

 

“When I was gone, I had this idea for a song.”He begins to explain tightening the string on his guitar.

 

“I’m not finished with it, and I’m not even sure if I ever will be, but this is the start of it.”

 

Even trumps a few time, tuning his guitar before his fingers rest on the frets. He strums softly, ginger gently placing at the string, while Isak stares at the one’s curling around the neck.

 

His voice shakes when he starts.

 

_Back and forth I've been here before_

_The words you said just left me on the floor_

_And I came round and blew smoke from my mouth_

_I thought I saw you in the clouds_

_But I chose to forgive_

_I find it hard to forget_

_Even though you said it's something you'd regret_

 

_It's in the back of my mind_

_But it's worse when I sleep_

_Now I'm losing my breath_

_And I'll never understand how you could forget me_

 

Isak can’t form words when Even’s finished and lets the string hum fade away into silence.

 

“What do you think?” Even finally asks, his guitar still in his lap.

 

Isak nods before he can answer, “It’s really good.”

 

“Yea?” Even smiles, a blush creeping up his cheeks, “It was just something I was working on, I don’t think I’ll finish it though.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Even shrugs, “sometimes it’s better if things only exist for you to know about them, you know?”

 

Isak nods his head, “Yea.”

 

“You should finish it though” Isak adds, “even if you never play it for anyone else, you should at least give it an ending.”

 

“If I ever do, I’ll play it for you.”Even promises.

 

“Can’t wait.” Isak smiles.

 

He watches Even’s fingers dance down the frets, enjoying the soft melodies they’re creating. It’s not until he hears Even humming does he recognize the hum.

He hears:

_Oxygen's overrated_

_I don't even need to breathe._

 

And then “ _this song reminds me of you”_ replays in his head along with flashes of Even’s mouth and skin.

 

“They’re a great band, aren’t they?” Even asks instead of what Isak know he’s dying to bring up.

 

“It’s a really good song.”

 

“Even better when you get to hear it live.”

 

“Definitely better” Isak agrees, although, both of them know they’re not talking about the performance anymore.

 

“We should do it again, “Even says, “that is whenever they’re in town.”

 

And Isak’s mouth goes dry because Even’s being so unsubtle that he doesn’t know what to say. If Jonas was beside him, it’s be a lot easier.

 

“We should bring Jonas too.” Isak blurts out, not missing the way Even’s mouth twitches as he tries to remain smiling.

 

“Yea” Even quickly stutters, “I’m sure he would like that.”

 

Even’s tone is dry that it makes Isak wishes he could take the last few minutes back. Their conversation ends when Even begins humming again, a different song Isak doesn’t recognize, but enjoys nonetheless.

 

He spends the rest of day there on Even’s couch. Alternating between the cushion and the chair in front of window when they smoke. Even’s too busy showing him songs and dissecting their lyrics to explain to Isak and Isak's too busy listening and  laughing at Even over analyzing them to realize how late it is. So, when Even gets a phone call, he’s forced to look at his phone.

“Fuck” He exclaims, “it’s midnight.

 

“Already?” Isak seems just as confused.

 

“I’ll drive you home, just let me take this phone call first.”

 

Isak watches Even rush back into his room. The walls are too thick so Isak can only hear the faint mumbling of Even’s voice. After a few minutes, he’s returning to the living room with a jacket in one hand and his keys in the other.

 

“Let's go” he says before they’re climbing in the van on the way back to his.

 

***

 

After the festival, they play better shows, bigger shows. Shows the fill venues and their pockets. Where the floors aren’t sticky and there are actual lines outside the venues waiting for them.

 

They’re ticket sales increase and Vilde’s having a hard time keeping up with all their merchandise orders.

 

So when they’re playing at the Jackpot, and the magnets tell them they’re officially playing a sold out show, everyone screams with excitement.

 

“We’re fucking rockstars!” Mahdi shouts chasing it down with a shot of whatever Chris has poured in their glasses.

 

“We actually sold 150 tickets.” Noora says in disbelief.

 

“Think of all the money you just made!”Magnus shouts, fist rising in the air.

 

The entire band laughs, and Isak seems just as confused as Magnus as why.

 

“Magnus,” Noora starts, “We only make 8 dollars per ticket.”

 

“That’s over 1,000 dollars.”

 

“There’s 5 of us in the band, plus Vilde.” She explains.

 

Magnus does the math quickly in his head and his face finally reveals when he understand it, “Oh.”

 

“But at least we sold out!” Chris reminds them all.

 

***

From behind the curtain, Isak watches the venue fill until the once empty area in front of the stage is full of people. Even the booths near the back have been moved into. It’s by far the loudest concert they’ve had, and the hottest. Isak can feel the heat radiating from the sweat and humidity from the crowd from where he’s standing.

 

Isak watches in awe as he hears the crowd sing the lyric so loud that at times Even’s voice is overpowered. When it happens, the band can’t stop smiling. Isak’s lost count of how many times they’ve thanked the crowd, but it has to be more then then. It should sound redundant, but their voices sound so genuine that it makes Isak feel proud.

Before their sets end, Eskild shows up with Eva.

 

“We couldn’t miss they’re sold out show!”Eskild squeals, it;s then that Isak notices that he’s wearing their band shirt.

 

“Where’s Sana?”Isak asks.

 

“She had to work, but she’ll be off in time for the party.”Eva explains.

 

“Party?”

 

“It’s the first time they’ve sold out a show, of course we’re having a party.”

 

***

 

Eskild stays true to his word because their performance sweat hasn’t even dried before they’re back at Eskild flat gulping down cheap champagne and chugging cups of beer.

 

There are too many people and Isak doesn’t know how they all fit inside the apartment. He also doesn't know who is controlling the stereo system, but whoever is has some Blink-182 song that Isak hasn’t heard since he was in middle school blaring through the speakers.

 

Everyone is drunk and jumping up and down, screaming the lyrics. It’s all a mess under neon lights. But Isak has never felt more alive than he does right now, dancing in a crowd of strangers, drunk off champagne and the night.

 

When he hears “Shots!” being chanted in the kitchen he makes his way to it. Finding Eva on the table, her tucked up her chest, drunkenly squealing as vilde slurps alcohol out of her belly button. The entire band is surrounding the table laughing and cheering as Vilde finishes the body shot.

 

Isak blinks in disbelief, he’s never seen this before. He swore this stuff only existed only in tacky American films, but apparently it includes Eskild's apartment as well.

 

“Hey, baby.” Jonas slurs when he sees him, putting his hand out, ready for Isak to slide under it.

 

Isak can smell the alcohol on his breath when Jonas wetly and sloppily kisses his cheek.

 

He’s not completely wasted, but he’s drunk enough to do a body shot off Eskild. And Isak’s drunk enough that he lets Eskild talk him into going next.

 

The table's warm from Eskild, Isak notices when he lays against it. But the alcohol is cold from where it’s poured into the dip of navel, the tequila pooling and overflowing just enough to make it spill down his skin.

 

Isak giggles when Eskild pours salt in the crevice of his neck and tries not to cringe when the sour lime is pressed between his teeth. Eva goes first, giggling as her nose bumps his ribs. They’re both giggling and squirming as she lick his neck, teeth meeting teeth when she goes for the lime.

“Whew.” She shouts luckily sucking the lime before spitting it out.

 

Isak reaches up to high five her, smiling from the beer running through him and the blush itching across his chest.

 

“Your turn!” He hears Eskils laugh as he pushes Jonas in front of Isak, so he’s standing in between his legs.

 

Eskild repeats the process, except he moves the salt line to his chest, so it's running down, uner his throat..

 

Isak’s pretty sure the hands on hips are there to keep Jonas from stumbling, but they still send shivers down his bare sides.

 

There’s loud laughter in the background as Jonas buries his faces in Isak’s stomach, licking the alcohol from his skin. He’s sticking his tongue out slightly and pressing it against one hip bone, following a trail of alcohol that’s making its way down.  His lips are wet and shiny when he moves up to follow the line of salt. He deliberately takes his time, tongue curling with the crystals. And then, back down again for the last few lines of it. Isak has to grip the sides of the table to keep his from grabbing Jonas’ hair for more.

 

When Jonas comes up for the lime, he’s meet by a roar of cheers when he pulls out of Isak’s mouth just to spit aside and reconnect their lips. Jonas kisses so deep, Isak can taste the lime on his lips and the salt on his tongue. It’s a filthy kiss, all tongue and sharps gasps when Jonas presses closer.

 

“Please stop, we eat there!” He hears Noora shout, making them pull apart.

 

Jonas is laughing, as he pulls back leaving Isak panting on the table.

 

“Even hasn’t had a turn yet!” Jonas points out, smirking at Isak.

 

Isak turns back to glare at Jonas for making him go, but he and Jonas both know it's just for show.

 

Even tries to keep still as Eskild puts the salt and liquor on him, but time moves incredibly slow especially when he can feels Even’s eyes on him.

 

He leans down, taking a deep breath before his lips meet his skin. He licks slowly, pressing his tongue down, and against his skin, licking up his stomach. Isak’s skin feels too warm, and for just a second he considers all the other parts of his body Even could touch with his tongue before he remembers that there's people watching. And that he's not done yet. Even doesn’t remove his tongue, just drags it up his chest until he find the salt sprinkled across his collar bones.

 

But this last bit is the worst, and Isak can see the way Even's smirking at him, even as he bites down onto the slice of lime. His inch closer so slow Isak's finger itch to pull him down. And when they're in front of him, only a light touch of them ever meet his lips. As quick as they come, they're even quicker when they leave. And it pulls all the air out of him, making him buzz from the dizziness of it all.

 

When Isak sets up to put his shirt back on, Even’s still looking at him, lips pulling on the slice of lime as he sucks it with a smirk.

 

The game quickly ends because no one else wants to go, no matter how many times Eskild begs them do so.

 

“That was hot.” Jonas whispers in his ear, shoving him up against the counter in the kitchen. Isak moans as the boy pushes his hips up, hands curling around his neck as he keeps rocking his hips up.

 

The song switches into "Impatient" and the movements Jonas' makes go from sharp and slow to fast like the song, and Isak lets Jonas throw an arm around his neck and draw him close.

 

When Isak pulls away it’s only a pant a “C’mon” before he’s leading them out of the kitchen down the hallway.

 

He leaves Jonas standing there only for a few seconds as he makes his way to Even, easily finding him across the room. All it takes is a simple nod before Even’s following close behind him.

 

A smile splits over Jonas’ face when Even follows them down the hallway inside one of the unlocked rooms.

 

“Back for more?” Jonas says, his voice teasing, but taunting.

 

Even though Jonas may have said it, Even’s eyes are on Isak when he answers, “couldn’t resist it.”

 

Isak hears Jonas hum from behind him, and feels his hands on his waist as he pulls him backwards, towards him. Isak catches on quickly, moving on Jonas’ lap, gently rocking against him. The urgency of their movements and the reminder of Even behind him is what's really overwhelming. The way Isak knows Even can hear their heavy breath and the sound of their kissing and the little keening sounds in his throat. He must see the way they're all flushed and sweaty and grinding on each other and he thinks, _fuck it_ , because he realizes that there actually isn't actually a single part of him that wants to put a stop to this.

Isak can't hold back his groan when Jonas reaches between them, cupping his crotch and rubbing him down and through his jeans. And he knows Even is right behind him, so when his mouth drops open with a loud moan he doesn’t try to cover it. Jonas rubs harder with his palm, pressing the seam of Isak’s jeans against his erection, and Isak moans a little louder, unable to stop himself.

 

When it feels like he might actually come, Jonas moves his hand, smirking as he stares down at Isak.

 

“Are you sure about this?" Jonas whispers quiet enough so Even can’t hear it.

 

“Yea, I want to.” Isak breathes heavily, rocking against Jonas trying to recreate the friction of Jonas’ hand.

 

That’s all it take before Jonas’ is holding his waist, stilling his movements. He looks behind him, watching Even stare at Isak.

 

“Are you going to join, or are you just going to stand there and watch again?” Jonas calls over.

 

Jonas receives his answer when Even moves further, taking the spot next to him.

 

“Don’t look so nervous” Jonas smirked noticing the way Even’s shoulder have tensed up.

 

Before Jonas can even suggest it, Isak is moving towards Even, throwing an arm around his neck to bring him closer. While he’s still seated on Jonas’ lips, he kisses Even.

 

He kisses Even again, even more fiercely this time, shifting on Jonas’ lap. They've both been hard for a little while now, and it's starting to get unbearable now that Isak can feel the stiff reminder of Jonas’s cock through his jeans, every time he moves.

 

He’s still kissing Even when he tries to blindly look for Jonas’ zipper, sighing when he finally gets it down. He gasps when he finally gets his hand around Jonas. The angle is sloping, considering he’s stuck between the both of them, but with the quick, heavy movements of his fist along with the grinding he’s pushing back down on Jonas’ lap, Jonas doesn’t last very long. Soon enough, Isak is hearing Jonas pant his name before he coming over Isak’s hand.

 

When Jonas moves, pulling away, Isak takes it as cue to straddle Even properly. His lips are numb from the amount of kissing he's done tonight, but the pulse between his thigh feels even heavier.

When Isak pulls back, he watches Evens eyes follow his lips. He looks at Jonas when he shuffles off Even’s thighs to kneel between them. With quick fingers, Isak is popping the button off Even’s jeans tugging them down.

 

“Isak” Even moans when Isak parts his lips and takes him between them.

 

 

Isak’s eyes watch Even, expecting to see Even’s hand wrapped behind his head, but instead it’s Jonas’s. With his fingers threaded through his curls, he presses Isak forward just light enough that Isak’s lips are sliding over Even, taking him a little deeper.

 

Isak splutters, pulling off suddenly. He regains his breathe with Jonas' thumb stroking the back of his neck and Even’s finger gently running across his cheek.

 

And then everyone is laughing and the tension is broken, only a little, but it's still easier than before.

 

Isak hums leaning forward to get his mouth back on Even. It’s after that that Even starts rocking his hips back and forth into Isak's mouth teasingly slowly. 

 

He tires to bob his head, in synch with with Jonas’ one handed guidance, but Isak can tell in the erratic movement of Even’s hips that he isn't going to last very long, and neither is Isak when Even reaches forward to palm him through his jeans just as Jonas had.

 

Even’s breathless, choked out whisper is the only thing Isak needs to hear. He watches through fluttering eyelids as Even throws his head back, coming hard and fast with a loud moan and Isak’s name.

 

Jonas helps Isak up, guiding him back onto the bed. It’s silent, the only sound dearing to be heard is unsteady breathing as they all try to regain their breaths. Not even Jonas knows what to say.

 

They’re startled suddenly when there’s pounding on the door followed by a  loud “You better not be fucking on my bed!”that they all instantly recognize as Noora’s voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> your feedback on the last chapter was so helpful, thanks to everyone who left a comment or a kudos or who just read it. again, sorry if this makes you uncomfortable.


	9. Postpone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> please read the comments at the end!

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Even slurs a series of curse words as he’s zipping himself back into his pants, panicking as the pounding on the door continues.

 

“Isak, Jonas, I’m serious!” Noora’s voice comes again with the twisting of the door handle that Even can’t take his eyes off his.

 

It’s threat of it opening, of people finding him locked inside the dark bedroom stuck between Jonas and Isak that has him caught in the center of the room like a deer in the headlights.

 

“Open up!” Noora continues to yell.

 

By now Even is pacing towards the back of the room, near Noora’s closet. Isak thinks he may be ready to duck inside before Jonas is pushing Even towards the bathroom.

 

“Get out!” He warns him, “go out the back.”

 

Then, Even’s fumbling with the door trying to open it with drunk hands, only to quickly disappear behind it. When it meets the doorframe, it echos in the room, and Isak can feel it still the air.

 

“Ready?” Jonas turns to ask him.

 

After watching all that, Isak feels like he’s the one who needs to catch his breath.

 

So, he takes a deep one before answering, letting the oxygen sit in his lungs and regulate his pulse. Very slowly he drags himself off the mattress so he can stand next to Jonas. When the door opens, Noora is immediately there waiting, eyes flying behind them to inspect the damage done to her room. She pushes them aside rushing to her bed to find the evidence. When all she sees are slightly wrinkled bed sheets she lets them go, but not without a harsh “my room is off limits” first.

 

The manage to stumble inside a taxi; Isak momentarily wonders if Even managed to get one too before he lets his eyes fall shut.

 

***

 

The night continues to hover over him when he wakes up with a soreness in the back of his throat and a dull ache near his temple. For once, he’s in his own bed, sweating in the sea of sheets he’s tangled in. Darkness still pours in through the curtains, so he has to blindly tug at the damp sheets until he’s free. As he attempts to let his breathing settled, he thinks about Even and then Jonas. Until his mind is just a constant stream _EvenandJonasEvenandJonasEvenand Jonas EvenandJonasEvenandJonasEvenand Jonas_ -

 

Because Jonas is there with his encouraging hands and prompting gazes, never forceful, but never subtle either. Demanding more and more and Isak’s more than happy to give.

 

But Even’s different. He’s the calming breath before they kiss and the the steady hands on the small of his back. He takes, takes, take it all and Isaks doesn’t think he ever wants to run out of things to give.

 

In short, Isak can’t stop comparing them: their hands, their lips, their dicks.

 

He thinks that they’re somehow an extension of another; where one drops off the other picks up. The perfect combination that always leaves him oscillating between waiting and wanting.  

  
  


***

 

It’s a wednesday night when Isak walks into their place after working a double shift. Yet even before he’s opened the door, he can hear the yelling from inside.

 

He walks in to find the entire band seated on their couches, hands flying and voices raised as they carry on.

 

“Even if we don’t win, someone could see us!” Mahdi yells across their coffee table, “We have to take the chance!”

 

“The band cover fee is over 300$, Mahdi.” Even argues back, his forehead pulled together from tension.

 

“The prize is a label deal, Even.” Noora interrupts.

 

Isak stands in the doorway for a few seconds longer trying to figure out their argument before Eva notices his confusion.

 

“They’ve been like this for over an hour,” She whispers tugging him onto the spot on the rug next to her, “They’re deciding if they want to go to the B.O.T.B competition.”

 

“B.O.T.B competition?”

 

“It’s the Battle of the Bands.” Eva goes on.

 

“Usually, it’s up in the north area, but this year it’s here. So a bunch of the West Side bands are signing up for it.” She explains before they’re interrupted by Chris.

 

“I looked at the signup yesterday and there are a lot of good bands already registered.” Chris says, voice low and hesitant like she’s unsure if she should finish, “some of them have been practicing all year for this competition, and we just found out about it yesterday.”

 

“We practice for shows all the time, how is that any different!” Mahdi scowls.

 

“If anything, it makes us better.” Noora sides with him.

 

From where Isak’s sitting he can watch the arguement continue in full sight. It’s clear by the way Mahdi and Noora are pushing back on every argument Chris and Even give that they’re the only ones who really want to go. Isak’s not sure what side Jonas is leaning toward until Noora makes him the tie-breaker.

 

Before Jonas answers, he shrugs slowly, “Lets do it. It’s not like we have anything to lose.”

 

Noora and Mahdi cheer as Chris and Even sigh, clearly upset at Jonas’ decision.

 

“Just the 300$ we have to pay to enter.”

 

“Even, I’ve seen you pay three times that amount for one guitar!” Noora’s eyes roll as she says it.

 

“Yea, and I still have that guitar!” He mumbles.

 

“Even, if we don’t win, I will personally give you 300$.”

 

“The money isn’t the point!”

 

“Then what is!” Mahdi finally shouts throwing his hands up in frustration.

 

When the room falls silent and Even’s blinking back his surprise, Mahdi voice softens, “Is it something with Sonja?”

 

“No.” Even immediately answers the question.

 

Isak can hear the collective exhale when everyone sighs in relief.

 

Noora’s next to speak, voice just above a whisper. The worried look across her face matches the quivering in her voice, “Everything alright?”

 

The groan Even lets out in frustration comes from the back of his throat, and sounds rougher as he moves to stand up.

 

“If it means that much to you guys” He says, voice heavy with defeat, “then let's just do it.”

 

Everyone cheers again. Isak laughs when he sees  Mahdi tramples Even with a hug.

 

“We’re gonna win.” He promises.

 

Even laughs dryly, clapping  hand on Mahdi’s shoulder, “If we don’t, you’re out of the band.”       

 

***

 

Everyone stays until after the sun falls, and they have to turn a lamp on just so they’re not sitting in the dark. By now there are more empty beer cans littering the tables than full ones. And what started as a very silly conversation about the songs they should play for the competition has turned into a very serious, but drunk one.

 

“Can you imagine,” Chris starts, “if we do win.”     

 

No one answers it, but Isak can tell they’re all imagining it in the silence.

 

“Do you remember our first show?” Mahdi reminisces quietly, tilting his head to look at the ceiling.

 

“In that basement under the deli?” Noora asks, face twisting with the memory, “that place smelled so bad.”

 

“And it was so hot!” Mahdi adds making everyone laugh as they remember it.

 

“Didn’t we have to pay him to let us play there?”

 

“We did. I remember that because it was half of my fucking paycheck.”Mahdi laughs, a grin splitting across his face.

 

“I almost quit the band after that.” Noora confesses with a small laugh.

 

“Me too.” Chris chuckles, “and after the time we almost got arrested.”

 

“Now look at us!” Mahdi half cheers raising his beer to his lips, “we’re selling out shows!”

 

Everyone laughs, raising their cups in an attempt to lazily cheer to it.

 

“That show was intense.” Chris says, shaking her head as she recalls that night.

 

“The after party was intense!” Mahdi laughs.

 

“You were so drunk!” Noora remembers.

 

“I can’t even remember the rest of the night. I was so hungover the next morning.” Chris exhales rubbing her temple as if she can still feel the remnants of the hangover.

 

“It was so hard to get you guys home, especially since _Even_ wasn’t there to help me.” Noora says, purposefully punctuation Even’s name simantov turning to throw him a sharp glance.

 

“You weren’t?” Mahdi’s head jerks with confusion, “I thought I saw you there before we left.

 

Even only nods, staring at the cup in his hand to avoid their eyes. Isak watches opposite from him as Jonas shifts with clear uncomfort. He’s been too quiet tonight, but Isak’s too far away to ask him why. He knows it can't be because they’re mentioning that night, because Jonas isn’t the one to become uncomfortable about this.

 

“What happened to you that night?” Noora suddenly asks, bringing Isak’s attention back on the very flustered Even.

 

“I-I left early.” Even quickly stutters.

 

Isak tries not to stare at him or Jonas when Noora speaks again.

 

“Really? That early? I thought I saw you later.”

 

“I wasn’t feeling too well, and-”Even lies, allowing his rambling to fade to silence.

Isak’s ready to jump in and offer a distraction, but he thinks doing so would only contribute to their suspension. He can tell from the furrowed eyebrows, Noora’s not really buying into his lie, but when she moves further back onto the couch and releases a simple “Oh”, the topic changes.

 

“Well, I still can’t believe we dropped out of college to do this.” She sighs, making everyone nod in agreement.

 

“My mom still stresses over it.” Mahdi jokes with a painfully mocking tone.

 

“I still stress over it!” Noora shouts, words spilling out with laughter.

 

“What about you, Jonas?” Mahdi suddenly turns to him, “is that going to be your last semester?”

 

Isak waits, expecting Jonas to tell him that he’s planning to go back in the fall with Isak to finish their degrees. They haven’t really talked about it, but he know they’re both still enrolled for next year, and as much as Jonas hates all the stats classes he has to take, he really loves being a business major.

 

So when Jonas avoids his eye contact and mutters a “Yea, I unenrolled from my classes today”, Isak’s nearly chokes on his gasp.

 

“What?” He finds himself blurting out.

 

He’s so startled, he doesn’t care that he’s creating awkward tension as he glares at his friend in disbelief.

 

Finally, Jonas turns to face, “it’s no big deal.” He shrugs.

 

“Jonas,” Isak starts, “you can’t just unroll after one summer of _this_.”

 

He can hear it for himself, the quick moment of disgust in his voice when he finishes the sentence. And he knows it sounds harsh, like he’s putting the entire band down, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Especially when Jonas is acting so calm, like they’re talking about their weekend plans not the pivotal moment Jonas is creating in his life.

 

“Jonas, it is a big deal.” Isak reminds him, voice flat and provoking.

 

So, he’s almost expecting it when Jonas’ face falls stoic and he speaks very slowly, staring at Isak the entire time. But it doesn’t mean, it makes it any less embarrassing.

 

“Drop it.” He begins, voice low and sharp like a warning.

 

“We can talk about it later” is the last thing he says.

 

Everyone, including Isak, falls silent. And Isak can feel the heat radiating off his face from the harshness of Jonas’ words and the embarrassment.

 

Finally, it’s Noora that breaks the tension, “It’s late. We should probably leave.”

 

No one needs to be told a second time, because they're all nearly jump over the furniture trying to escape the hostility in the room. Isak’s too busy continuing to stare at Jonas to notice Even’s lingering looks as he follows the rest of his band mates out the apartment.

 

When the door shuts, Jonas immediately stands up, silently collecting beer cans from their table. Normally, Isak would help, but tonight it seems like he’s stuck to the floor.

 

Although, Isak knows it’s only a few minutes that pass by as he watches Jonas clear the table, it feels like time is dragging.

 

“Is that all you have to say?” Isak finally gains the courage to say.

 

With his eyes trained on Jonas’ back, he watches him move into the kitchen. For the moments after when Jonas doesn’t respond, only the metallic crushing of beer cans fills their apartment.

 

Isak thinks he’s going to ignore him, except he can hear Jonas sigh, “There’s nothing to say. It’s my decision, Isak.”

 

At this Isak immediately stands to his feet, stomping loud enough so Jonas can hear him as he follows the light into the kitchen.

 

“Are you serious? You’re going to drop out just to be part of a band?”

 

Perhaps, Isak doesn’t mean to phrase it that harshly, but between the alcohol and the long day he’s had, he can’t find it in him to make the words seem a little softer Especially when he disagrees with them so much.

 

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Jonas spits out, fingers curled around the faucet.

 

“They’re not even signed Jonas.” He reminds him.

 

Isak can hear the anger flaring up in Jonas’ throat when he answers, “What does that have to do with anything!”

 

“You don’t even know if you’re going to make it or not, Jonas. They’ve been in and four over four years and they’re just starting to sell tickets to their shows!”

 

His voice is so loud that when Isak finishes there’s a dry soreness at the back of his throat.

 

“Fuck you, Isak” is all Jonas says, letting the bottle crash in the sink loudly before he’s pushing past Isak’s shoulder to walk into his room.

 

The door’s slam echos throughout their flat, and he’s not sure which one makes him feel worse: that noise or the broken glass in the sink.

 

However as he’s tossing and turning in his bed, he thinks it maybe the look on Jonas’ voice that does.                                              

 

***            

                           

In the morning, Isak can still feel the residual anger from last night’s argument hang in the cold, stale air in their place. It fills their apartment in the deafening silence and the morning light.

 

Isak has to apologize to Jonas, it’s the first thing that crosses his mind as last night’s feelings anchor him to his bed. Because this isn’t the give-up-something-after-two-weeks-Jonas Isak is used to seeing. And that makes him feel even more like an asshole. Jonas has been in the band for over four months, so maybe Isak should stop considering it as a summertime hobby. Especially because Jonas is ready to give up his future for it.

 

So, he forces himself up, ending his brief moment of self pity, and heads down down the hallway. His feet drag with every step, and his hands feel they’re shaking when he knocks on Jonas’ door.

 

“Can I come in?” He asks nervously thorough Jonas’ door.

 

An answer doesn’t come back immediately, and the time in between makes Isak feel even worse because he _knows_ Jonas is awake.

 

He actually lets out a breathe of relief when Jonas finally responds, “Are you finished being an asshole?”

 

“Yea.” Isak’s immediately calls back, “I promise.”

 

“Okay, you can come in.”

 

That’s all Isak needs to hear before he’s slowly walking in, but moving no further than the few inches into Jonas’ room than what the doorway extends to. He waits, giving Jonas time to kick him back out if that’s what he wants--Isak wouldn’t blame him if he did.

 

But then, Jonas is raising one eyebrow at him and asking, “Are you going to stand there the entire time?”

 

So, Isak knows it’s safe to move closer.

 

“I still think it’s irrational for you to quit school so soon.” Isak starts, speaking over the screeching springs in Jonas’ mattress from where he moves over them.

 

“But it’s cool.” He finally says, “you being in the band and being so serious.”

 

Jonas doesn’t say anything, and Isak wishes he would because he can’t stand this silence growing between them.

 

“And” Isak continues, coughing to clear the quick tremors at the back of his throat, “I’m sorry for yesterday. I didn’t mean it like _that_ and I probably did sound like an asshole.”

 

“You did.” is all Jonas agrees to, but they both smirk lightly, so it’s enough to break the tension.

 

“If it’s something you want to do, you should do it. Regardless of what me or any other asshole have today.”

 

This time Jonas doesn’t just smirk, he laughs. Isak has never been so relieved to hear it than he is right now.

 

“Does that mean you’re going to tell that to my mom.” Jonas jokes.

 

“Fuck, no.” Isak quickly huffs it out, “she’s going to kill you.”

 

“I know.” Jonas groans, and Isak really feels for him.

 

“I’ll go with you to tell her.” He offers trying to ignore Jonas’ thigh so close to his side when he rolls over.

 

“I was going to go over there this afternoon.”

 

“Okay.” Isak nods, “I haven’t seen them since christmas anyway.”

  


***

 

Isak imagines this was exactly how nervous he was when Jonas drove him to see his mom. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jonas this anxious before. Even the first concert he played is nothing compared to this.

 

After a few moments of sitting parked in his parents’ driveway, Jonas finally leads them up the stairs. His sister, Thea, opens the door. Jonas must have already told her because she immediately embarrassed Jonas with a engulfing hug and a sympathetic smile.

 

“Good luck.” She whispers to him, before they’re meeting Jonas’ mom in the kitchen.

 

It begins well. It makes him feel like they’re back in highschool, back when Isak practically lived there as the three of them talk about their semester and Jonas’ band. She hasn’t seen them play, but Jonas has been keeping her up to date on their performances, so she isn’t completely unaware that it’s something Jonas is really into.

 

Then, when Jonas finally mentions he’s dropping out of school to focus on it is when things change dramatically. At first she doesn’t respond, only rests her face in her hands, hiding her reaction. It’s then that Isak realizes who Jonas got his heart-clenching silent treatment from.

 

They only share a quick look, but Isak can see the despair across his face. As expected, she begins to yell. Her arguments sound a lot like the ones Isak was making last night, so it makes him wince when he hears her say them.

 

He doesn’t know how long Jonas and his mom argue for, but it’s long enough that it  makes Jonas mad enough to storm out. Isak has to run, just to keep up with him. They don’t speak, but Isak can tell by the way Jonas’ knuckles are turning white from his grip on the steering while that he’s angry.

 

So when they get back to their apartment, and Jonas immediately goes to his drums, beating them with all the stored anger he has, Isak doesn’t say anything. Even when the noise is loud enough that it feels like it’s splitting his ears.

 

***

 

Neither of them mention what happened with his mom until the next day when they’re out with his sister.

 

“What was it like after I left?” Jonas asks, fingers nervously twitching for an answer.

 

Thea purses her lips, and Isak knows she’s debating how much of the truth she wants to tell him.

 

“Dad knows now” is all she says.

 

“And?” Jonas impatiently asks.

 

“They’re not as mad as they were yesterday.” She tells him.

 

“How bad is it?”

 

“Do you remember the time they found out you took their car without asking, and you got that huge dent in the side of it?”

 

“They’re that mad?”

 

“No” She shakes her head, “they’re like double that mad.”

 

“ _Fuck._ ” Jonas grumbles, “I need a drink.”

Then one drink quickly becomes another and another, and soon their table becomes full of Jonas’ half empty cups of alcohol. It takes Isak five minutes to talk him out of ordering another one. It’s nearly eight, so Jonas being drunk wouldn’t be such a bad thing, if he wasn’t being so loud.

 

He nearly trips over his own feet when he stands up, only to have Thea and Isak push him back down. As Isak tries to keep Jonas from falling out of chair, he leans over him to keep him seated, but Jonas takes the opportunity to sit his hand on Isak’s hip, trying to pull him closer.

 

“Hey.” Isak quickly stops him, placing hand on his shoulder to keep Jonas still.

 

“Hey.” Jonas drunkenly makes back.

 

Isak tries to laugh at Jonas’ drunken humor. So when, Jonas stares at him with glossy and unfocused eyes, Isak realizes he’s actually drunk.

 

His frown instantly drops and turns into a small smile when Jonas suddenly laughs, “You’re such a good friends, Isak.”

 

Jonas is essentially slurring, so everything he says sounds like he’s sloppily singing it. Isak can feel Jonas’ grip tighten, but as much as Isak want to sink into it, especially with his warm breath fanning over him every time Jonas talks, he can feel the awkward glance Jonas’ sister is directing towards them.

 

It’s not like she hasn’t seen them both drunk before, but this is different.

 

“A _really_ good friend.” Jonas adds. His voice so low and raspy that it makes the hand he’s slipping across Isak’s hand feel even heavier.

 

“Jonas” Isak tries to warn him, squirming to put some distance between them.

 

But Jonas’s grip is strong enough to keep him close, close enough that he can curl a hand around his neck to bring him closer.

 

If it weren’t for Thea’s interrupting cough, Jonas’ lips would land on his jaw, but at the reminder of her presence, Isak immediately pulls away.

 

“Is there something going on between you two?” Thea slowly asks, each word sounding more awkward and pained than the one before it.

 

Before Isak can answer with a “It’s complicated”, Jonas is laughing over him.

 

“With me and Isak?” He laughs it out, “that’s funny, Thea.”

 

“He’s just my best friend.” Jonas adds, a wide, drunk smile spilling across his face.

 

No matter how badly Isak want to frown at Jonas’ confession, he knows doing so will only make Thea more doubtful. So instead, he laughs too, shaking his head prove Jonas’ point.

 

Thea is still glancing between them, not taking her brother’s word for it, but her interrogation is cut short when Jonas nearly launches himself out the chair.

 

They have to hold him up by his elbows just to support him out the door.

 

“He’s such a lightweight.” Thea eyes roll when she looks into the backseat at her brother passed out on the door.

 

“I thought being in a band would help with that, but it really hasn’t.” Isak jokes trying to avoid the question he know Thea wants to ask.

 

It’s only after a brief moment of silence that Isak speaks up.

 

“Are your parents really that mad at him?”

 

Thea sighs, “It’s really bad.”

 

“Is there anything we can do?”

 

“They just need time.” Thea tells him, “they’ll eventually get over it.”

 

Thea makes it sound like a promise, but Isak has known Jonas’ parents long enough to know she’s lying to the both of them.

 

“Let's hope” is all he says, ignoring the fact they both know it’s not going to happen any time soon.

 

***

  


The next day, when Isak hears Jonas on the phone letting whoever’s on the other end know he’s not going to make it to band practice, he knows something’s wrong. So, Isak calls in and begs someone to cover his shift just so he can find out what it is.

 

“Don’t you work today?”Jonas questions when he finds Isak still in his pajamas lounging on their sofa.

 

“No” Isak lies, “something with the schedule and there being too many people in already.”

 

Jonas still looks skeptical, but he’s too defeated from the past days’ events to argue. Instead, he lets himself sink into the spot on the couch next to Isak.

 

“I texted my mom this morning.” Jonas yawns, hands rubbing at his eyes.

 

“Did she respond?”

 

When Jonas doesn’t answer, Isak takes it as a no.

 

“She probably needs more time.”

 

Jonas nods, picking at the string on his shirt to distract himself.

 

“Why aren’t you at band practice?” Isak asks, “Does it have to do something with everything that’s going on?”

 

“No.” Jonas says a little too quickly and defensively, “I’m allowed to miss practice without it having to mean anything.”

 

“You can.” Isak reassures it, “but it’s just” He struggles trying to keep his phrasing from upsetting Jonas, “the timing makes it seem like something else.”

 

“Isak.” Jonas says, “I’m not going to quit the band just because my mom’s mad at me.”

 

“I know that.”

 

“Then why didn’t you go to work?”

 

“I’m allowed to miss work without it having to mean something.”

 

Jonas’ scowl softens after he Isak repeat his words; he’s trying to keep himself from laughing, but fails when Isak does so.

 

Then he reaches over to nudge Isak’s shoulder, “go. Go to work.”

 

“They already have someone covering my shift.”

 

“So, I’m stuck with you all day?”

 

Isak laughs, “all day.”

 

***

 

Except for them, “all day” means distracting themselves with enough video games and crappy tv shows to keep them in the same spot on the couch for six consecutive hours. Only moving when there’s pizza waiting for them at the door.

 

When the game finally ends, Isak’s pretty sure he’s lost all feeling the tips of his thumbs. As Jonas is scrolling through his phone, Isak notices the frown line starting to appear across his forehead.

 

“What?” Isak asks, “Did your mom text you back.”

 

“No,” Jonas answers, “Sonja did.”

 

Isak and Jonas share a look. They both know that whatever Sonja has texted him has to regard Even. And if involves Even, then it’s about _their_ involvement with Even.

 

Isak actually hold his breathe until Jonas reads her message aloud.

 

“She wants to know if we’re really playing in the Band competition.”

 

After that. Isak feel like he can breathe again.

 

“Do you think Even’s keeping it a secret from her?”

 

Jonas shrugs typing away at his phone.

 

“What are you going to tell her?” Isak asks, “What if Even doesn’t want her to know.”

 

Jonas looks up, fingers paused, “What should I tell her.”

 

“Tell her you don’t know.”

 

“She’s not going to believe me.”

 

“You can’t tell her.” Isak warns him as Jonas returns to typing his message.

 

They wait in silence until Sonja texts back.

 

“She said she doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because there’s already so many bands that it’s going to be hard to win.”

 

“What the fuck?” is all Isak can say.

 

“How do I even respond to that?”

 

“Just tell her you guys are still deciding if you’re going or not”

 

Jonas quickly types it out before tossing his phone onto the table.

 

“Do you think that’s why Even didn’t want to go?” Isak asks staring at Jonas’ phone when it vibrates again.

 

“Probably.” Jonas shrugs.

 

“Do you think she’ll talk you guys out of it?”

 

“Noora and Mahdi won’t listen to her.”

 

“Do you think Even will?”

 

Jonas purses his lips, thinking though Isak’s question before he answers, “I think he’s starting not to.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

The look Jonas gives him makes him feel like there’s something Isak should catch onto, but he can’t figure out what it is until Jonas laughs.

 

“C”mon, Isak.” He says, “if he still cared what Sonja thought he wouldn’t be doing _this_.”

 

With that, Isak finally gets it.

 

“Maybe she’s okay with it.” Isak says using the vagueness of the words to tiptoe around the situation.

 

Jonas smirks, “I don’t think she knows.”

 

Isak’s eyes fall on the unopened text message flashing across Jonas’ phone.

 

“Maybe we should stop before she does.” He says very quietly, guilt settling into his stomach when he sees her name light up the dark screen.

 

Jonas moves closer, facing Isak when he speaks, “We can, if that’s what you want.”

 

Isak can feel Jonas’ eyes trailing down his skin, making him feel a lot hotter than he did a few minutes ago.

 

“Is that what you want?” Jonas asks again, bringing his mouth right next to Isak’s ear, letting the words color his skin.

 

Isak shakes head, “No, but maybe.” He begins to say, before the words catch in his throat.

 

“I don’t want to stop it either.” Jonas whispers, trailing Isak’s neck with wet kisses.

 

Jonas pulls Isak in for a kiss that’s short enough to shut him up and good enough to make him want more. His lips are soft and his tongue’s in Isak’s mouth, that doesn't make Isak want to pull away.

When he does, it's only because Jonas begins to whispering, “Is this okay?”

 

Isak’s can’t breathe let alone speak, espically since he's starring at Jonas’ broad shoulders and Jonas's mouth. But it’s Isak who kisses Jonas this time, but Jonas pushes Isak back into the sofa so Isak’s on his back, making it easier for him to move on top of him. He thorws his leg over Isak, licking into his mouth like he's mapping out every crevice. 

 

He feels like there's fire igniting between them as Jonas rolls his hips, sliding their cocks together. With Jonas’ tongue down his throat, he feels Jonas’ hair tickling at the sides of his face. His hands move down Isak’s waist, then, down his hips, until he’s grabbing at Isak’s ass. He pulls him until there no space separating them, an Isak grinds down wishing there wasn't any clothes with it.  

 

His gather the material of Isak’s shirt, but he doesn’t lift it until Isak is nodding his head. When the clothing is gone, Isak reaches forward for Jonas’ to do the same.

 

After his shirt is gone, Isak tucks his hand into the waistline of onas's pants, tugging them off. 

 

Jonas pushes himself off Isak, giving them both the chance to remove their sweats. Jonas’ come off fast while Isak struggles doing so on the small sofa they’re both stuffed on. Jonas laughs watching Isak’s legs kick wildly, tangled in the clothing.

 

After he does, he’s immediately back on Isak again, kissing him hard, moving down between them. They move against each other for a bit, enjoying the friction of their clothing against their skin. He has a leg in between Isak’s, so Isak can feel Jonas's muscles strain against his legs. He thinks that it’s all he can handle until Isak presses down with want.

 

Jonas’ eyes flash open, eyes wild, waiting for Isak to do something. 

 

“Please.” Is all Isak can get out, instantly blushing and tucking his head into the side of the sofa.

 

“Are you sure?” he asks, trying to keep his eyes off Isak’s lips.

 

“Yeah,” Isak says, “Can we move onto a bed though?”

 

Jonas just grins at him, lazily moving off Isak so he can follow him into his bedroom. Isak tries not to think about Jonas’ drunk comment about them being just friends Jonas as he's sliding the last bit clothing still on him down his legs.

 

Isak hands Jonas the small bottle he has tucked away in shelf, ignoring the way his hands shake in anticipation. Jonas doesn’t hesitate to wet his fingers with it.

 

Jonas must be nervous too because he spills some on the carpet, laughing when he does it. Isak's glad he does because the tension pulls back. He reaches down between Isak’s legs again, past his cock to feel that trembles running through his thighs. 

 

"Just, do it slowly, okay?" Isak breathes, and Jonas nods.

 

He tries to pust his finger in slow and thrust with it gently but he's so eager, and Isak can feel it. Like really feel it.  

 

He shift, bringing his hips down to meet Jonas's fingers. 

 

They move out before he fucks two of them back in, twisting them. Isak hear his moans growing louder as he twists in the sheets. He feels Jonas slip his finger deeper curling them when he comes back out. He makes a weak little sound in the back of his throat when they leave his body.

 

"Like" Isak says, hips jerking off the bed.

 

Jonas slips a third finger in, slowly reaching them up to his knuckles when he pauses. Isak feels him lean over him, and he doesn't hesitate to meet him for a kiss. 

 

"God," Isak hisses.

 

He keeps at it with his fingers, fucking Isak with them, too focused on the rhythm he’s creating that it’s only when Isak moans loudly that he’s pulled back into reality.

 

"Jonas" he warns.

 

He gazes down at Isak so slowly Isak can watch every blink of his eyes lashes. He kisses him again, trying to get himself to calm down. But Isak's desperately trying to speed them up, rocking his hips against Jonas's finger, ready for more, ready for anything Jonas will give him. His legs are spread wide and it's almost too much.

 

He watches Jonas bring his hand around himself starring at Isak as he pulls for his own release. 

 

Within minutes, they're panting hard, tryig to breathe like there isn't any oxygen left in the room. When Jonas moves off and beside him, he’s breathing just as hard. His chest's painfully rising and collapsing, matching the heavy breathing Isak is trying to control.

 

He reaches for the comforter that’s been kicked off the bed to cover themselves with. Their skin's sweat slicked, and damp, but Jonas doesn't seem to care when he moves closer to Isak.

 

“I don’t want to stop this.” Isak says quietly tucking his head into the pillow.

 

Jonas laughs watching Isak’s eyelashes flutter when they meet his cheek, “Neither do I.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much!!  
> 


	10. Bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the moment you all have been waiting for has come (literally.) (lol)  
> song: Bodies by Catfish and the Bottlemen

When Isak and Jonas get picked up outside their apartment, things are awkward. Everyone grows silent as they make it to their seat. And it’s not because they think there’s still some unresolved tension with Jonas and Isak from the fight they witnessed between them two nights ago. They can tell that’s gone by the way Jonas is smiling and laughing as Isak struggles to sit comfortably on Jonas’ lap.

 

“Good?” Jonas asks him with his hands placed on his sides.

 

Isak nods, shifting so he can tuck his legs underneath the seat in front of them. He’ll never understand why he’s the one who has to sit on Jonas when his legs are nearly a foot longer than his. However, aside from the weird angle he has to stretch his limbs in, he doesn’t really mind it. Especially when he can _feel_ Jonas not minding it either.

 

But Isak’s smile immediately falls when he notices all their eyes glaring at him. It’s then he remembers that the last time he saw them, he was bashing their band.

 

“Hi.” Isak nervously starts, eyes quickly glancing at everyone inside the car.

 

He can’t find the words fast enough, the embarrassment is making his heart race. All their eyes are still on him, and when he looks up to find Noora with her arms folded across her chest, he knows he has to apologize.

 

It’s something he finds himself doing a lot lately.

 

Surprisingly it’s Jonas’ hand gently stroking his side that makes him feel at ease.

 

“I’m sorry.” He says, no excuses or cover ups this time. “I was wrong about your band and I was wrong to say that.”

 

His apology seems to appease everyone in the car because he can see their expressions soften. Yet, no one says anything, so the quietness makes him feel worse.

 

It isn’t until Magnus is clearing his throat and saying, “So, I had this idea” that they move past it.

 

“We should all dye our hair like pink or something for the competition.” Magnus begins, shouting over the car radio, “Think about it, if we all dye our hair pink they’ll be able to remember us better.”

 

Everyone responds with confused and irritated glances, except Eskild, who is frantically nodding, “I’m in.”

 

“We’re not dying our hair pink, Magnus.” Noora sighs.

 

It’s a sentence none of them ever thought they’d ever have to say, but Magnus kind of has that effect on all of them.

 

“The how are we supposed to stand out from the other bands.” He goes on, smile falling when he realizes his plan isn’t going to happen.

 

Noora sighs, pursing her lips when she answers him, “Our music, Magnus. That’s why we’re going.”

 

“But it’s only half of what people look at, the other half is about appearances.”

 

“I think Magnus is actually making sense this time.” Mahdi teases learning forward to include himself in the conversation.

 

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have to dye your hair pink like the rest of us.” Even adds, taking a hand off the steering wheel to tap Mahdi’s bald scalp.

 

Everyone laughs as Mahdi pushes his hand away.

 

“I’m being serious.” Magnus continues, “all bands have a certain look to them. It’s like their brand. We can’t just show up in jeans and t-shirts, no one will take you guys seriously.”

 

After a moment, Chris speaks up,“We can’t wear matching outfits. It defeats the purpose of being in a punk band.”

 

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Magnus argues, “but we should at least like we’re in a band.”

 

Jonas is the first one to actually consider it aloud, “What are you suggesting?”

 

Vilde answers for him, finally looking up from her phone.

 

“Rebranding our image” is all she says pushing back the loose strands of hair that have fallen in her face.

 

“What?” everyone says in unison.

 

“It means,” Vilde smiles putting her phone away, “we need to go shopping for new clothes.”

 

“I hate this band sometimes.” Mahdi mutters making everyone laugh as Vilde instructs Even in the direction of the nearest shopping center.

 

***

 

From then on, Vilde pretty much takes things over. She pulls them into countless stores, taking things off the shelf and forcing them into the dressing rooms with it. Whenever someone tries to object, she clears her throat, and begins the “As your manager” speech that makes them all cave.

 

She’s busy arguing with Noora over a shirt that Noora’s refusing to wear because it “isn’t her style” when Even comes to stand next to him. Jonas is with Mahdi and Magnus looking through clothing racks in the back, so he’s alone waiting for everyone to finish.

 

“You don’t look like you’re having any fun.” Even says, a smile curling in the corners of his lips.

 

Isak laughs, readjusting the hat he has pulled over his hair, “We’re shopping with Vilde, there’d have to be something wrong with you, if you were having fun.”

 

Even laughs, head tilting back just a little. “You’re not into the whole recreating your image thing.”

 

“What wrong with my image now?”

 

“Isak, every time I see you you’re wearing the same three grey sweatshirts and green t-shirt.” Even smirks.

 

Isak mouth falls open, and it’d be a lot easier to argue against if he wasn’t wearing that mentioned green shirt right now.

 

“You’re no fashion master either,” Isak scoffs, “I haven’t seen you without that denim jacket ever.”

 

“What’s wrong with this jacket?” Even questions, “it’s cool.”

 

“It’s summer, Even.”

 

Even only grins, teeth caging his tongue behind them, and Isak can’t help, but smile back.

 

“C’mon.” Even nods his head in the direction he’s pulling Isak towards.

 

After a few minutes of Even flipping through the rack, he hands Isak something.

 

“Try this.” He tells him.

 

Isak glances down at the clothing in his hands. He can only see parts of it is, but whatever Even has picked out for him is black and looks like it has come out of Jonas’ closet, not his.

 

“C’mon.” Even encourages him, “do it for the three hoodies.”

 

“I hate you” is all Isak mumbles, but he’s listening to Even either way.

 

When he gets inside the dressing room, he quickly pulls off his shirt, knowing he won’t try it on if he thinks about it any longer. When it’s finally on him, he looks at himself in the mirror. He rolls his eyes at his reflection. It’s a band shirt that sits right on his hips. If he stretches in anyway, the hem will rise. The shoulders are short, so most of his arms are bare. He’s still looking at himself in the mirror when the curtain he’s behind pulls open.

 

“Even!” Isak immediately shouts as the same boy pushes himself in.

 

“Relax, I found you something else.” He says enthusiastically, bringing the clothing in front of him for Isak to see.

 

It only takes one look at it for Isak to shake his head, “I’m not wearing that.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Isak stutters as he shakes his head some more, “because. I’m not.”

 

“Just try it on.”

 

After a long sigh, Isak takes the jacket from Even. Rolling his eyes when the leather slides up his arms. When he pulls it onto his shoulders, the material fits with a slight pinching tightness around his ribs.

 

When he goes to look in the mirror, it’s not his reflection that gets him; it’s Even’s. Isak can watch his eyes take in Isak’s look, from the tightness in his clothing to the way his torso looks longer and narrower when he’s dressed in all black.

 

Isak watches Even’s hand moves forward, fingers capturing the bill of his hat behind his head, “you should wear hats left often.”

 

Then, he’s removing it from Isak’s head and using his other hand to fix the small curls the cap has pushed back, moving them so they rest forward onto Isak’s forehead.

 

“Better.” Even says under his breath when he’s finished, stepping back so he can look at Isak properly.

 

Isak breaks the tension and their eye contact in the mirror with a nervous laugh, “I look like one of those guys that smoke behind alleys because they think it makes them look cool.”

 

Even’s laughs fills their dressing room, “You do.”

 

“I’m never wearing this again.” Isak mumbles, quickly pulling the jacket off.

 

“Why, it’s a good look.” Even laughs then entire time he’s saying it.

 

“Then you wear it.” Isak mutters pushing it back into Even’s hands.

 

“It looks better on you.”

 

Isak’s mouth twitches into a small smile, matching the smirk Even’s giving him.

 

“Asshole.” Isak blushes, turning around so he grab the hanger that’s been dropped onto the floor.

 

He’s ready to put this outfit back on the rack where it belongs, when he feels Even thumb settle on the strip of skin revealed from the rising of his shirt.

 

And it’s a combination of the Even touching him in a public dressing room with all their friends just ten feet away, and the tight, new clothing that makes Isak feel like he’s on display, but this time, it’s just for Even.

 

So, he freezes, caught between standing up to meet Even, and staying still so he can savor the warm brushes of Even’s fingers on his back as long as he possibly can.

 

Yet, in the end, Isak slowly moves back up. The warmth instantly disappearing despite his shirt recovering him.

 

He’s meet with the calming, wide eyes Even’s trying to maintain. Even when Isak takes a step closer, until there’s nothing between them, but that leather jacket Even’s clutching in his hands. They’re so close, Isak can hear the sharp breath Even takes when his eyes fall on Isak’s lips. He knows Even’s going to bring them together when his neck moves forward and his head begins to shift gradually to side.

 

Except, they never reach his because voices calling out in the store interrupt them.

 

“Where’s Isak?”

 

It’s Jonas, and his voice is loud enough that it sounds like it’s coming right outside of their dressing room. Even’s mouth opens like he’s going to say something, probably an apology, but Isak can see the words die in his throat when his mouth clamps shut. Instead, he quickly hands Isak the jacket and rushes out of the room. So, Isak’s left behind watching the curtain slowly swing still.

 

As he quickly changes, he can hear the same question be asked again, but when Even answers with a “I don’t know, I haven’t seen him”, he nearly drops everything in his hands.

 

“Where have you been?” Jonas asks him when he finally sees Isak walking from the back of the store.

 

“I was in the dressing rooms.”

 

Jonas finally believes him when he sees the clothing in his hands. His eyes become a little wider when he realizes what Isak’s holding.

 

“You’re going to get that?” He asks.

 

Isak shrugs, “I’m not sure yet.”

 

It seems like everyone else has gotten something, Isak notices, staring at the multiple bags in each of their hands. Even Jonas has something.

 

So, Isak decides he is. He buys the jacket and the shirt, but tries not to notice the small smile Even has when he sees Isak walking out with both of them

 

***

 

They stay in the back of his closet until the day of the competition. Then, they’re quickly stuffed to the bottom of his suitcase. He nearly forgets about them with how distracting Jonas’ panicking is.

 

However, it’s not just Jonas, it’s the entire band.

 

“It’s a two day competition.” Vilde explains again when they’re driving to the city it’s being held in.

 

It’s only a two hour drive, but they’re staying at a hotel there while they perform, just in case they make it into the third round tomorrow.

 

“24 bands will be eliminated today after the first two round. Bands must prepare a ten minute set. If they become one of the last six bands to enter the final competition, then bands must be prepared  for a thirty minute performance.” She continues to read from the rule book.

 

“What time are we on?” Mahdi asks just to get Vilde to stop reading.

 

She’s gone through those exact passages at least four time before. Isak doesn’t know why she still has the pamphlet, because he knows she has the entire thing practically memorized.

 

“We need to be on stage at 5:15 for the ten minute setup and soundcheck. Then, the curtains will be pulled up at 5:25. We have to be off the stage with all our equipment by 5:40.”

 

This isn’t new information. They’ve been constantly running through the songs  they’re going to play, practicing them so they fill the entire 10 minutes nearly every day. They’ve practiced everything, even the five minute clean up they’ll have to do.

 

With nerves high, no one has the patience for small talk. So the car ride is mostly silent. Only the faint hum of the radio plays in the background.

 

“Are you texting your mom?” Jonas whispers.

 

Isak can hear the surprise in his voice when he sends the message.

 

“Yea, it’s her birthday next week, and I was going to go visit her.” He tells Jonas.

 

“Is your dad going to be there?”

 

Isak shrugs, letting his phone’s screen turn black, “No.”

 

Jonas only nods, “Well, it’ll be fun with just the three of us anyway.”

 

Isak hides his smile with a teasing grimace, “Who says you’re invited?”

 

“Your mom.” Jonas jokes, “the only reason she wants to see you is so she can see me.”

 

“You wish.” Isak laughs.

 

***

 

There are so many people crowded inside the venue already, and they’re there six hours before the show even begins. There’s too many guys with beards and too many girls with dark eyeliner filling the place. They almost look out of place in their comfortable, wrinkled roadtrip clothing. However, it isn’t until Vilde, in the lightest shades of pink clothing she owns, makes her way through the sea of bodies strapped in leather and bold red, that they start to.

 

They watch her speak with an older women with long dark hair and even longer dark red nails. Vilde looks unfazed with how shocked the manager looks when she sees Vilde tapping on her shoulder.

 

“She was so nice.” Vilde gushes when she returns back to the band with all their papers and sign in sheets.

 

Magnus takes a look around, hopping onto his toes so he can peer over the crowd, “There’s so many people here.”

 

“Most of them are just the crew.” Noora explains as she’s beginning to lead them back outside the club.

 

“Just imagine how full this place is going to be when all the bands, judges, and crowds come.”

 

They all do, and by the amount silence and frowned glances it creates, Isak knows that the thought must scare them all just a little.

 

***

 

The hotel they’re staying at must house almost every other band performing this weekend too. The entire parking lot is full of huge vans identical to their own. Band members litter the hotel and the balcony halls, perfuming the place with sweat and cigarettes.

 

They get two adjoining rooms: one for Eva, Vilde, Chris, Noora and Sana to share, and the other for Jonas, Isak, Even, Mahdi and Magnus to sleep in.

 

Their rooms’ filled up more with their band equipment than their actual luggage, so when the band practices, speaks are seat up on top of their suitcases and Jonas’ drums are crammed near the bathroom. Chris and Mahdi have to set on the edge of one bed just so Noora can fit her keyboard across the mattress.

 

Everyone who isn’t playing an instruments has to share the single couch.

 

They practice their songs until they they physically can’t. Which means, until their fingers become sore and no one can stand to listen to the same songs one more time. They fill the three hours before the show cleaning their instruments and eating pizza from the delivery place down the block.

 

When everything’s packed inside the van and the pizza’s finished, there’s only two hours left before they’re suppose to play.

Everyone's rushing between the rooms. Clothes are ruffling out of suitcases and onto wet skin. There are 10 people sharing one bathroom and one shower, so Vilde’s actually timing them.= to make sure they make it out on time.

 

It’s even worse when there’s only hair and makeup left to deal with. The single mirror and counter the bathroom provides has been overtaken by make up bags and hair straighteners. Isak can already see red lipstick streaks running across the mirror.

 

“How long does it actually take you guys to get ready?” Mahdi shouts from outside the occupied bathroom.

 

All the girls are inside, while they’re all locked on the outside, impatiently waiting. He can hear laughter and talking from inside until Noora shouts back, “We’re almost done.”

 

“That’s what they said 30 minutes ago.” Magnus mutters, finger combing his damp hair.

 

After ten very long minutes, the door finally opens.

 

“It’s all yours” is all Sana says before the girls clear out.

 

With less than thirty minutes until the venue opens, the boys rush in. There’s no time to argue or complain, they’ll have to do that later. Right now, everyone is busying combing back their hair and making sure their shave is clean.

 

“Isak, get this for me, please.” Jonas asks, giving up on the bottoms on his dark black shirt, “my hands can stop shaking.”

 

Isak can see it’s not just his hands, it seems like Jonas is actually shaking.

 

“Calm down.” Isak whispers as his knuckles come in contact with the warm skin underneath his unbuttoned his shirt.

 

He makes sure the back of his hand gently rubs against his chest as he closes the shirt up.

 

“That’s not helping.” Jonas mumbles, trying to steady his breathing.

 

Isak laughs lightly, fingers working with the top button, until the last one is finally clasped.

 

“There.” Isak finishes, patting his shoulder.

 

“How do I look?” Jonas asks him and it’s all the permission Isak needs to look at him.

 

Jonas always looks good for shows, but tonight, in all black, he looks better. He’s in a simple black fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled back to his elbows. The collar’s buttoned all the way to its top, so it sits nicely around his neck. His broad shoulders strain against the material, but in a way that makes him appear taller than he actually is.

 

“Good” is all Isak manages to say.

 

It’s then he notices everyone has dressed up. Mahdi has on an unbuttoned denim shirt with a navy blue t-shirt under it, paired with a pair of jeans that don’t have his signature white paint stains on them. Then, Magnus is in dark pants and a plaid button up.

 

From the quick looks he’s gotten of the girls, he knows they’re dressed as equally up as them. The only person he hasn’t seen is Even.

 

THat changes when he hears him yell from the other room.

 

“No, I’m not wearing eyeliner, Vilde.”

 

It’s followed by a chorus of laughter from everyone in the two rooms.

 

“Why not, Even?”

 

“Because I sweat too much and it’s not waterproof.”

 

His response only makes them laugh harder.

 

He comes out of the bathroom, eyeliner free, and actually makes Isak’s breath hitch.

 

He’s dressed so similar to Jonas that he wouldn’t be surprised if they’re actually wearing the same shirt, but in different colors. Even’s is white and his first two buttons are down, so his chest his visible. Unlike Jonas, his black jeans are rolled up over his ankles, and his hair is styled.

 

“Nice jacket” is all Even has to say before Isak stops himself from staring at him for any longer.

 

“Thanks.” Isak tries to play it cool, “it’s a good look, isn’t it.”

 

Even laughs with an all knowing smile.

 

“Where’s yours?” Isak teases noticing that his denim coat is nowhere in sight.

 

“It’s summer.” Even shrugs, “Figured I could go without it for day.”

 

***

 

Magus was right.

 

With everyone there, the place is overwhelmingly packed. They have to squeeze through the back just to get signed in. They nervously watch from the upper tier as the bands perform.

 

It seems like each band is getting better and better, so by the time they’re called to perform, no one can breathe.

 

With shaky hands they quickly set up their equipment. They’re too busy shoving plugs into speakers and outlets, to smile.

 

“This is happening.” He hears Chris remind herself with a heavy exhale.

 

“There are so many people out there.” Mahdi adds.

 

“Did you see the line of judges in the front?” Even asks as he plucks out a few chords.

 

“Yea.” Mahdi shouts, “they’re checking off boxes on like lists or something.”

 

“Guys.” Noora says, cutting off their conversation.

 

They’re only adding to their fear talking about this.

 

“It’s just like every other show we play.” She reminds them, “If we play the best we can, who cares if they don’t like us.”

 

It’s the only pep talk they get because someone’s shouting down a _5, 4, 3, 2,1_. When the curtain rises, a roar of applause follows.

 

Even’s voice shakes when he introduces them. However, it evens out when they begins to play.

 

The ten minutes go by fast, and the crowd of drunken strangers cheer them on the entire way.

 

There’s no time to process anything after the curtain falls because they’re instantly told to start packing their stuff up. With the adrenaline still pulsing through them, they pack their instruments rapidly.

 

It’s only after everything is in their van that it finally hits them.

 

“That was fucking insane!” Mahdi shouts, jumping into the air.

 

“My heart was pounding the entire time.” Chris laughs.

 

“Look at my hands.” Noora says, spreading her fingers so they can see how badly she shakes.

 

“You guys did so good!” Eva yells jumping forward to hug each of them.

 

“Your best performance yet.” Sana tells them, doing the same.

 

“You looked like actual rock stars.” Magnus agrees putting his hand over Mahdi's sweaty shoulders.

 

“It felt like we were.” Mahdi nods with a wide smile.

 

“It’s the clothes!” Vilde argues, “I told you they’d help!”

 

“Yea, it definitely wasn’t their playing, Vilde.” Sana sarcastically says, making everyone laugh.

 

“Of course you guys played great too.” Vilde finally agrees, “but the clothes definitely helped.”

 

“I’m so glad it’s over, though!” Mahdi confesses, tugging on the collar of his shirt, “it feels like I can breathe now.”

 

“Me too.” Chris nods,“I’m ready for a drink.”

  


They’re more than ready to use the “50% for band members” discount at the bar, but they’re surrounded by rowdy strangers who come up to compliment their performance and buy their beers for them. So, they don’t really get a chance to use it.

 

The first round is almost through, and they’ve grown even more nervous after watching each performance. They spend their time in a corner of the club, close enough to the stage to watch the bands, but far enough from it so they can hear each other talk.

 

Isak notices Sana typing away on her phone supporting a frowning look, but he thinks nothing of it until she leaves with Even.

 

When they rejoin the group, both seem on edge, glancing around the crowd like they’re searching for someone. They share more worried looks until they finally rejoin the conversation, smiling and laughing to hide whatever they were busy with.

 

Even’s midway through his sentence, when a new band comes on stage. Once he hears the band announce themselves, he instantly stops talking and turns around.

 

Even’s actions don’t go unnoticed, and everyone follows his line of sight to the stage.

 

“Do you know them?” Mahdi’s the first to ask.

 

No one else seems to recognize the five boys on the stage, but Even. He’s still unable to speak, silently watching the band continue.

 

They can’t be much older than Even. Isak can’t help, but find the similarities between them, in the way they dress, and act. Even someone of their songs sound similar.

 

“Even.” Mahdi shouts trying to regain his attention.

 

At that, Even’s glaring ends and he’s shaking his head.

 

“Yea, I do.” He finally admits.

 

No one speaks, trying to keep their faces from showing what they’re thinking as they give Even the chance to continue.

 

“I went to highschool with them.”

 

“The one singing is my brother.” Sana adds.

 

However, It’s Sana’s comment that makes everyone gasp.

 

“Why didn’t you tell us your brother was in a band?” Vilde shouts.

 

“A cute band.” Eva adds with a small giggle.

 

Sana moves back in her chair, she shrugs before she answers, “it never came up.”

 

“You didn’t think you should mention that your friend and your brother were going to be in the same band competition.” Mahdi reminds them all.

 

“I didn’t know they were going to enter until they got here.” Sana admits.

 

“Is that all it is, Even?” Magnus asks softly noticing his friend's anxious look.

 

“No.” Even shakes his head.

 

He clears his throat before answering, “I was in their band.”

 

“What happened?”

 

Even only shakes his head, it’s clear that talking about this is making him uncomfortable, “it didn’t work out, and somethings happened, so I left the band.”

 

“But that was a long time ago.” Sana says, putting an end to the conversation.

 

No one decides to push the conversation further, understanding it’s something Even doesn’t wants to elaborate on. That doesn’t mean their questions and curiosity don’t linger on through out the night.

 

***

 

The two minutes it takes to announce the continuing bands seems like the longest two minutes to have ever been lived through. Before the judge can finish announcing their name, they’re shouting

 

“We got through!” Chris cheers.

 

“We have to perform again!” Mahdi jokingly sighs.

 

Although, they’re all sharing that nerve wrenching burden.

 

Vilde immediately goes to collect their new schedule, and it’s when they look at it that Magnus points out they go right before Even’s old band.

 

“Magnus.” Jonas hisses, nudging his shoulder.

 

“Shit, sorry.” He immediately apologizes.

 

Even laughs, reassuring, but still nervously.

 

The second time they play, Isak can tell it’s not the crowd that’s making Even nervous. Especially, when he’s trying to keep himself from looking in the corner of the venue where the other boys are seated.

 

He’s doing his best to hide it, but Isak’s seen Even perform enough times to know something's wrong. He still puts on a good show, but he’s not as energetic, or happy as he usually is when he’s singing.

 

The entire band can sense it, and Isak hopes, for the band’s sake, the crowd can’t.

 

“Are you okay?” Isak immediately asks Even when he turns his microphone off.

 

Even smiles weakly, hair fallen and sticking to the side of his face, “Yea, the competition's just a little intense.”

 

He looks at Jonas quickly receiving a raised eyebrow, like Jonas knows Even’s not as okay as he’s letting on to be.

 

“Does it have something to do with your old band being here?”

 

There’s a quick pause in Even’s movement as he’s rolling his mic’s cords over his fist. However, the stutter is so quick that Even plays it off.

 

“No.” He lies, “it has to do with the competition we’re trying to win.”

 

Isak refuses to let this go, so he continues, “So, it has nothing to do with you having to compete against your ex-band?”

 

“No.” Even repeats, tightening his grip on the cables he’s trying to ravel.

 

“Well then, there they are.”

 

Once Isak says it, Even’s head jolts up to the stage door. It’s not just Even that freezes when he sees them, it’s everyone else too.  The first guy to walk on must be Sana’s brother because when he sees her, he smiles. Yet, it quickly disappears when he sees Even. The rest of the boys are like that too.

 

As they’re carrying their stuff onto the stage, Even’s hands move faster. He can’t get out of the room fast enough. Isak can hear the other band mumble to each other, before their booming laughter makes his skin crawl.

 

It’s the kind of laughter you hear only when you’re trying to hurt someone. It’s cruel and taunting and directed towards Even.

 

It’s while they’re carrying the last of their things off the stage that one of them finally acknowledges their presence.

 

“Nice band, Even.” He smirks, staring at Even.

 

Even refuses to turn around, but remains standing in the middle of the door frame to hear what else they have to say.

 

“It was nice seeing you, again.” He goes on, “Aren’t you going to wish us luck? Or tell us to break a leg or maybe a guitar?”

 

Once he says it, Isak hears their laughter multiply. He only hears one of them tell his band mate to stop. The others are too busy spitting out wild crackles.

 

Even doesn’t wait around to give them the opportunity to say anything else. He nearly runs out of the building with his guitar case in his hand.

 

“What did he mean by that, Even?” Noora asks when they’re finally all gathered by the trunk of their van.

 

“Nothing.” Even quickly tells her, “they’re just to intimidate us so we lose.”

 

“Are you sure that’s all that happened between-” Vilde starts to question.

 

“I don’t want to talk about! Can you stop asking me about!” Even shouts shoving the black case into the trunk.

 

The loudness of his voice surprises them all. Isak thinks this may be the first time he’s heard Even yell, aside from that time at the festival.

 

He still has his back turned away, so no one can see the expression he’s hiding. After a few moments, he hears Even sigh.

 

His voice is softer when he speaks, “It happened a long time ago and none of that matters anymore.”

 

“Okay.” Mahdi nods, placing his hand on Even’s shoulder, “We’re done, we won’t bring it up anymore, will we?”

 

Mahdi looks at everyone, waiting for them to promise with him.

 

Everyone agrees, “We won’t.”

 

***

 

When they get back to their hotel, it’s Magnus who refuses to let them stay there. He’s going on about them “being in the city” and not letting their “nice outfits go to waste”. Plus the winners of round won't be announce until tomorrow, so according to him, "it's silly to wait around worrying about it". However, it’s not Magnus' arguments that persuade them to go, it’s just to get him to stop taking that really has them piling back into the van.

 

Apparently, there’s a party for all the bands at a club two blocks from where they just played. At least that’s what some girl told Mahdi while they were there.

 

The drive around until they find where it’s at. However, it doesn’t take long because the entire block is lined with cars and people littering the sidewalk. It should be a good party. The entire place is full of band members, good music, and cheap alcohol, but Isak can’t get past Even sulking at their table.

 

“Is he alright?” Jonas asks him when he notices Isak staring at his band mate.

 

Isak shrugs, pushing aside the the beer he’s been working on since they’ve gotten there.

 

“Did he say anything to you?

 

“No, but something’s really wrong.”

 

“I know.” Jonas sighs.

 

Aside from Even, they’re the only ones at the table. Everyone else is out on the floor dancing with the crowd.

 

“I’m over this.” Jonas admits with a grimace on his face when he looks in the direction of the crowd.

 

“Me too.”

 

“Do you want to go back to the hotel?”

 

“Yea.”

 

“Should we ask Even if he wants to leave too.”

 

“Yea.”

 

Isak watches Jonas move towards Even. He assumes he’s telling them they’re leaving, because Even is nodding, and standing up like he could not agree to it fast enough.

 

The three of them walk the two blocks back to the hotel in silence. As the party becomes further away, the quieter it seems to get.

 

They leave the light off when they get inside the room. The street lamp outside their building gives off enough light so they don’t need to.

 

“Long day.” Jonas sighs taking a seat on the end of the sofa, giving Isak and Even enough room to join him

 

Isak does first, sitting underneath Jonas’ arm, despite the entire couch being available. Isak can feel Jonas’ thumb dip between his collar so he can toy and tug lightly on his jacket.

 

“This is a good look for you.” Jonas tells him, leaning down so his breath can land on the span of skin underneath his jaw.

 

Isak knows what Jonas is doing, what he’s always been doing. It’s like something goes off in him every time the three of them are alone together. Because it’s all tempting and theoretical and Jonas never closes the gap. And Isak thinks that’s what makes it so intense, because they do it; they choose to cross the line themselves.

 

“Thanks.” Isak whispers, thankful the room’s dark enough to hide his blush.

 

Then, it’s no longer just breath on his neck, it’s lips and tongue and teeth, and Jonas’ nose sliding down the side of his throat.

 

The room is silent except for the sound of Jonas’ lips sucking Isak’s skin and the quietest of moans Isak’s panting out.

 

“Even.” Isak whispers, like he’s reminding them he’s still in the room with them.

 

Jonas blinks slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile when he sees Even stepping forward.

 

He doesn’t immediately involved himself, just takes a seat next to them on the sofa. Isak and Jonas may both be looking at him, but Isak is the only one he’s focusing on.

 

“It looks good on him, don’t you think?” Jonas asks Even, referring the jacket he’s still using to hold Isak by.

 

“Yea.” Even exhales, “it does.”

 

Isak doesn't know why listening to them talk about him like he isn’t sitting between them makes him feel so flustered, but it does.

 

“Aren’t you going to thank him for that?” Jonas says hot in his ear, fingers abandoning the grip he had on his jacket.

 

Isak knows this is where it starts; this is Jonas giving him the chance. All he has to do is take it.

 

And he does.

 

Isak waits until his lips are touching Even’s to speak, “Thank you” is all he says before he’s holding the back of Even’s neck, and kissing him.

 

When Even’s mouth remains still and motionless, Isak’s ready to pull himself off him, already beginning move further back, closer to Jonas.

Except, Even must notice his retreat because he quickly sits his hand on Isak’s thigh, opening his mouth to kiss him back. All signs screaming, _"stay here, I want this"_ without the actual need to say it aloud.

 

The kisses grows harder and sharper until Even’s leaning forward pressing Isak back into his couch, kissing him like he’s trying to get the taste of him out of his own mouth. Or like he’s trying to get the taste of Jonas out of it.

 

Then, it’s Jonas’ hand cupping his chin, twisting his face back around so the kiss with Even is broken. Isak only has time to suck in a short breath before Jonas is covering his mouth with his.

 

It’s dizzying: the transitions, and the feelings of hands pulling him different ways. First, it’s Jonas, then Even, then Jonas, then Even, and Isak’s letting them turn his face whatever way they want, mouth open, ready to meet whoever’s lips he’s being pushed into.

 

Whoever’s kissing him now has their hands under his thighs, chest pushed against his. Isak’s mouth falls open in surprise when they use their position to hoist him off the couch, hands slipping behind his knees to keep him up. Isak’s immediately clutching their shoulders, legs twisting around their waist.

 

He doesn’t open his eyes until his back meets the mattress. When he does, he finds Jonas’ questioning look staring back down at him. Isak knows it; it’s the one asking him if he’s sure and giving him a chance to speak up.

 

“I don’t want to stop this.” Isak whisperes, reminding Jonas of their conversation from earlier.

 

Without hesitation, Isak’s lifting his arms above his head. He’s only slightly upset when he watches the leather jacket fall to the floor.

 

Jonas takes his time, pulling off each article of his clothing like he’s still unsure he should.

Isak feels exposed when his jeans finally come off. Fuck that, he feels on display, sprawled out on the bed in nothing, but his boxers while Jonas and Even watch him from above still fully dressed.

 

He tries to tug Jonas’ shirt when his hand is ceased and stopped, “Wait” is all Jonas says.

 

Isak’s breath catches in his throat when Jonas runs his hand down his chest, letting his nails leave the faintest of scratches down his torso until they come to rest on his bare thigh.

 

Jonas’ clothing scratches against his skin when he moves over him, kissing down his frame until Jonas’ face aligns with his hands.

 

It’s already difficult not to move when Jonas’ hair tickles his leg. So, when he places an opened mouth kiss to the delicate skin of his inner thigh, it’s only by Jonas’ grip on his hip that he remains still.

 

Then, Jonas’ warm breathe is slowly traveling up and up until it’s puffed over the dampening spot in front of his boxers.

 

“Jonas.” Isak whines impatiently, arching himself off the mattress only slightly.

 

“C’mon.” He hears Jonas say, and Isak has to open his eyes to make sure it’s Even he’s talking to.

 

Isak doesn’t know who to watch, Even or Jonas. It takes them both equally as long to get the buttons undone, and Isak’s eyes are following the line of skin down their chests until the shirt is completely gone.

 

He lets Jonas help him up onto his hands and knees. There’s not a single nerve in him that’s not ready to burst when he feels the bed dip in two different places. When Even appears in front of him, he knows it must be Jonas’ hands on his back, tucking themselves under his waistband.

 

“Ready?” Jonas asks.

 

Except he waits until Isak answers with a “Yes” to slide them down, refusing to take his friend's head nod as an actual answer.

 

Even and Jonas move at the same time, and it’s overwhelming, the amount of hands on him. Right now, he can only focus on Even’s and the gently stroke his thumb is making across his cheek. He’s pressing into his skin just hard enough to pull Isak’s mouth open, so his tongue can slide in easily. It’s a weird angle with Even kneeling in front of of him, so he has to lean forward just to meet his lips.

 

The gasp he lets out when Jonas’ wet fingers touch him is muffled into Even’s mouth. Although, it doesn’t feel as foreign as it did the first time Jonas’ slick  fingers were sliding into him. He waits until Isak’s pushing his hips back to add another one. His fingers are short and thick, compared to Even’s -- at least by the visible comparison he’s done of them. But there’s callouses on his thumbs and index fingers that Isak can feel every time they touch his skin. And Jonas knows how to rock his fingers in, making the drag in and out slow enough to have his thighs trembling, and his arms ready to give out.

 

“Fuck.” Isak moans against Even’s lips, head dropping, and eyes pinching shut.

 

He feels too good to be embarrassed by how high the moan he whines out is when Jonas crooks his fingers in even deeper. His mouth doesn’t shut; he’s too busy letting out every moan and mewl that crawls up his throat. Even has given up kissing him, all he can do is suck Isak’s bottom lip into his just so he can keep his mouth on him.

 

“Jonas, _Please_.” Isak whines, hips impatiently pushing back on the three fingers Jonas is fucking into him.

 

He almost groans at the emptiness he feels when Jonas removes his fingers. When he hears the crinkling of the condom wrapper fill the silence of the room, and feels the heavy weight of Jonas’ hands on his ass, he takes a deep breath. The mattress moves slightly when Jonas positions himself between his legs.

When Jonas pushes in, he’s too fast. He’s only in halfway when Isak gasps sharply, making Jonas immediately pull back out. With apologies spilling out his lips, Isak moves forward so he can place his lips on Even’s.

"Alright," Isak says, as he's breathing hard, "just go slower."

He lets Even distract him, pressing his tongue in his mouth, pulling Isak’s into his own, lapping them together in a delicate way while Jonas presses in again.

This time he’s slow, inching in until he's deep and they're flushed against each other. Isak’s ass pressed against his hips, it's like nothing else. It's better than he could have imagined.

It only gets better when Jonas pulls out, teasing his cock over Isak’s hole, before he’s pushing back in, using the hand he has on Isak’s hip to guide him backwards.

“God, Isak.” Jonas moans with a bruising grip on the boy below him.

He hears Even moan, so his attention is immediately moved to the boy in front of him. The wet sounds of Even touching himself with a lubed-up hand make Isak think about how it would feel to take him into his mouth right now, to feel _so full_.

 

He moves clumsily, body bouncing from the rhythm of Jonas’ thrusts. His grip is weak when he tugs on Even’s thigh to get him closer, but it’s enough to make him move forward. It’s difficult for Isak to crawl forward when all he wants to do is fuck himself backwards, but he does his best to get his mouth around Even.

 

And Jonas’ thrusts are enough to push him further on Even’s cock making him gag more than he normally would. Even’s hand resting on the back of his neck helps steady him a little, but his noise continues to bump Even’s skin every time Jonas moves.

 

After a while, Jonas’ rhythm is getting sloppy, and his fingers are gripping Isak harder. All signs he’s ready to cum. Isak can feel it building up inside of him too.

 

It’s at the worst possible time that Jonas decides to pull all the way out to re-position them. Isak would yell if his mouth wasn’t stretched over Even’s cock.

 

When Jonas’ hand curls high around his thigh, he’ so dangerously close to Isak that he jolts at the contact. Jonas pays it no attention, since too busy pulling Isak’s legs apart, spreading them wider than before.

 

He hears Jonas moan from above him with he pushes back in, and Isak can’t help but do the same. The new position allows him to go impossibly deeper than before. Loud grunts are being punched out of him every time Jonas slams into him, vibrating his entire mouth as he struggles to keep Even in.

 

Jonas is cumming soon after with jerky movements and his nails raking down Isak’s shoulders. Isak’s so close, a dry sob rips through him when Jonas slowly pulls himself out, sliding his hand off his hip to squeeze Isak’s cock roughly and quickly.

Jonas’ fingers are still shaped around around him when he leans over Isak, his sweaty chest sticking to Isak’s back.

 

He breathes hot in his ear to say, “I can feel it from here” Jonas pauses to squeeze Isak a little firmer, “how bad you want him.”

 

Isak takes a deep breath, trying to rub back against Jonas for some desperate friction.

 

“He wants you too.”Jonas continues, releasing Isak so he can still his hips.

 

Isak finally brings himself to look at Even. Even in the dark lighting he can see the red warmth coloring his chest and face, and the layer of sweat glossing his skin. He watches Even’s chest rise and fall rapidly as he tries to avoid looking any further down.

He’s too hot and desperate for his own release, so he lets Jonas’ words give him the courage to crawl into Even’s lap. He hears Even hiss when he lets his ass rest over Even’s dick.

Even’s hard and leaking, from where his head’s resting between Isak’s cheeks. Isak’s face is wet from sweat, and drying tears, and his lips are slick with spit and Even, but he’s so close, so he ignores all of that. All Even has to do is touch him once, and he’ll come.

He watches Even’s fingers tear open the foil packet, groaning in frustration when he has to lift himself momentarily off Even as he rolls the condom on himself. However once it’s on, Isak’s immediately grabs Even’s cock, lining himself up so he can lower himself back on it.

His mouth stays agape and his eyes remain closed until he’s seated all the way onto Even, his ass seated on Even’s thighs. Even’s gripping his waist hard, and Isak’s knows it’s too keep him from fucking up into him.

He feels Even’s forehead rest against his while Isak takes deep breathes trying to adjust.

It’s Isak that moves first, slowly rising up, just to push himself back down. He does it again, a little faster this time, ignoring the burning in his thighs as he tries to rock back down. He’s lazily trying to bounce, but his legs are already sore from kneeling on them all night, so it’s an actual relief when Even spreads his fingers over his hips picking him up.

 

It happens quick, Even yanking his hips downwards so that he can drive his cock up and in. And all Isak can do focus on the up and down, up and down motion he’s bouncing in until he’s throwing his head back, and digging his nails into Evens shoulder as he comes. It doesn’t take long for Even to do the same.

Isak breathes heavily and hard as he relaxes, clinging to Even. He can’t feel anything, but the anchoring pressure of Even’s lips on his jaw. He has to focus on it just so he can breathe.

Then, he’s letting Even move him onto his back, because his limbs feel too heavy to move.

He closes his eyes for what seems like only seconds, but when he reopens them, he finds himself cleaned and dressed. He can’t remember who dried the pool of cum on his stomach, but he’s grateful they did. His legs and arms still feel to heavy to move, but at least he can shift further up the mattress so he can curl into his pillow.

“You alright?” He hear someone whispers.

 

He opens his eyes to find Even laying behind him, eyes watching his every move.

 

Isak smiles weakly, eyes half-lidded and threatening to close, “just tired.”He yawns.

 

It makes Even smile gently, bring his hand to push back the hair over his forehead.

 

“I don’t get it.” Even says quietly.

 

Isak blinks, trying his best to stay awake, “what?”

 

“How he can do it?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Share you.” Even admits, “I don’t think I could.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter's kind of a lot to go through. So, thanks to everyone who gets through it and the story in general! thanks so much for continuing to read.


	11. Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song: Fallout Catfish and the Bottlemen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I want to apologize for anything that might offend you in this chapter. Even is still a very ambiguous character, and the way I wrote about him in this chapter doesn't exactly resemble his story line, and in no way do I think Elias is truly as bad as I wrote him out to be. But please remember this entire works is fiction. but if it in any way offends you, I'm so sorry and please let me know. Also, this chapter is probably a mess because I've written it over and over, so many times during the last 2 weeks. With that all being said, sorry this chapter took forever, but it's 10k so I think it was worth the wait.

They’re late.

 

So late. The distant highway rustling and blinding light spilling through the curtains aren’t even enough to wake them up. That only comes when Magnus shouts out a “Fuck, it’s 3:45” loud enough that it startles them all.

 

It must have been sometime after 4am when the rest of the band came stumbling in, knocking over suitcases and chairs as they blindly tripped their way to the beds. Their drunken giggles muffled into their palms and loud shushing echoing in the silent room only woke Isak long enough for him to realize Even was no longer behind him. When he heard Magnus slur a “move over, Even”, he knew he wasn’t returning. Especially since it was Isak who pressed his face into the pillow until he knew Even fell asleep, just so he didn’t have to meet Even’s burning gaze last night. Like he didn’t hear the small sigh Even let out when all he got were Isak’s fake murmurs instead of an answer.

 

“Mahdi, you were suppose to set the alarm!” Noora yells, scrubbing the red swatches of lipstick from her face.

 

“I told Magnus to remind me.” He shouts back pulling wrinkled clothing from his suitcase.

 

“I was drunker than you, I don’t even remember talking to you last night.” Magnus groans, hands clutching his forehead.

 

“It doesn’t matter who didn’t set the alarm, we need to leave.” Vilde yells making her way towards the door, “ _Now_!”

 

There’s no time to continue arguing about who is to blame, no matter how much the band wants to. Which means, Magnus’s and Mahdi’s quick banter is cut short when Vilde’s pushing them out of the room with an authoritative “get ready in the car, we need to leave now.”

 

When she locks their room, everyone is rushing to the van, half collected. To anyone watching, they must look comical. Magnus doesn’t even have his shoes on, Mahdi’s wrestling with the shirt he had to quickly grab from his bag, and Eva’s still in yesterday's wrinkled dress.

 

“If we’re not there when they call our name, we’ll be eliminated.” Noora reminds them, trying to use the car’s rearview mirror to pull up her hair, but the pink stands refuse to stay put.

 

“We’ll make it.” Chris promises just as her foot pushes down on the gas.

 

The new speed makes them all jolt forward, filling the car with a collective yell, “Chris!”

 

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Mahdi moans leaning his head on the door’s frame.

 

“Open the window.” Jonas yells with a strong hand on Mahdi’s back trying to keep him facing the opening just in case.

 

“This is a mess. We’re not going to make it.” Sana mutters handing Mahdi the bottle of water tucked in the seat.

 

“It’s Magnus’s fault, he made us go to the party.”

 

“I didn’t see you complaining about it last night.”

 

“You’re so lucky, Jonas and Isak” Vilde sighs trying to finger comb tangled curls, “you left so early, you don’t even have hangovers.”

 

“Neither does Even.” Magnus points out.

 

There’s a small pause in their conversation that Isak swears only starts because Even’s foot stutters over the break.

Even opens his mouth, but the fragments he’s still stumbling to form are interrupted when Jonas speaks up, “Lucky us, I guess.” He laughs.

 

“Of course, they were lucky.” Magnus teases, nudging Mahdi with his shoulder, making everyone in the car laugh.

 

Blushing red, Isak buries his face into the crook of Jonas’s neck, nose bumping into his skin, attempting to hide his embarrassment from the rest of the band, but especially Even’s eyes reflecting in the rearview mirror.

 

“Lucky, you guys.” Mahdi painfully laughs too, head still out the window when the laughter settles.

 

They make it just in time. As they wait for the announcement to begin, they swallow down painkillers with shaky hands.

 

It gets eerily quiet in the venue when the bands begin to be listed.

 

They make it into the last round, but their bad hangovers keep their cheering to bleak smiles and quick hugs.

 

“If we perform, I think my head will actually explode.” Mahdi sighs, thumbs rubbing at his temple.

 

“If I even smell anymore alcohol, I think I’ll be sick.” Noora adds, face pinched in disgust when she looks at the bar setting up.

 

“You guys wanted to come.” Even reminds them, a mocking smile on his face.

 

“Even, I love you, man.” Mahdi starts, eyes shut as if he’s waiting for the throbbing in his his forehead to subside, “but please shut the fuck up.”

 

Even only laughs out a “Love you too, Mahdi” before he’s forcing everyone to help pull their instruments out of the van.

 

When it’s their time perform, everyone finishes off everything left in their cup before taking the stage. Isak knows the noise, but must be spilling their heads, but they don’t let that affect them. They feel confident leaving the stage with the crowd loudly cheering behind them.

 

Except, they don’t win.

 

Instead the trophy goes to a heavy metal band with gothic tattoos and long hair. Five other bands, including Even’s old one, share the same tight smiles and fake applause when the winners are announced.

 

Isak can hear the disappointment in their voices when Noora offers a small smile to say, “Well, it looks like I owe you that $300, Even.”

 

Everyone laughs weakly, but it’s silent at their table as the winning band takes the stage to accept their award.

 

“They weren’t even that good.” Magnus mumbles as the thank you speech blares in the background. However, no one at their table bothers to listen to it.

 

“You guys did do a lot better than them.” Sana says, offering a smile smile.

 

“And your music’s better.” Eva adds

 

“You guys” Even starts, “They were good, and that’s why they won. That doesn’t make us any less good. Even though we lost, we have to respect and support other bands.”

 

“Well, we lost and I’m too upset to support and respect other bands right now.” Noora grumbles, angrily staring as the band is handed the large check.

 

“Me too. I still think we did better than them.”

 

Even rolls his eyes, taking a sip from the beer he’s been working on since they’ve arrived. A line of foam settles above his lip, but when his tongue chases after it, Isak tears his eyes away.

 

“Sore losers.” Even teases.

 

“You’re suppose to be angry with us, Even!” Chris scowls.

 

Even laughs, “How am I supposed to be angry when we got through to the last round? I didn’t even expect us to get through the first.”

 

“Even.” Noora shouts, “It’s your band, you’re suppose to believe in us.”

 

“It’s not the first competition we’ve lost.” Even reminds them, “this is just how this works.”

 

Mahdi groans, head falling into his hands,“Can we please just get one night of self-pity, and then we can all go back to supporting other bands tomorrow, please?”

 

“Fine.” Even sighs, “just tonight, though.”

 

“Just tonight.” Mahdi laughs.

 

“Just tonight.” They all promise.

 

Isak quickly learns that for bands wallowing in your own self-pity involves a lot of alcohol, dark clubs and loud music, which isn’t really different than every other night he’s spent with them.

 

Except, no one’s really drinking. In fact, he’s seen them do more shots before shows than he’s seen them do tonight.

 

Their lost is clearly still hanging over their heads as they try to enjoy their night. It starts to get better when they’re all cramped around a table laughing as Magnus drunkenly divulges into another one of his “brilliant” plans to make them into rockstars.

 

“We have to go L.A.” He starts, “it’s where all the celebrities are. If we go there, we’d get signed in not time.”

 

“Magnus, we’re not going to L.A.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because we’re not seventeen.”

 

“Think about, every band on the radio started in L.A.” Magnus begins to argue when a man in a suit walks up to their table, ending all their conversations.

 

“Even?”

 

Isak watches Even’s eyes widen, “Trevor?”

 

“It’s good to see you again.” the man says outstretching his hand to shake Even’s.

 

Isak doesn't recognize him, but by the sharp looks the rest of the band is sharing, he knows they must.

 

“Who is that?” He hears Jonas whisper to Chris.

 

“Trevor McCanon.” Chris explains, “He has a record company. He’s always signing bands.”

 

“Oh.” Jonas nods, but remains quiet while Even continues talking to Trevor.

 

“What do you think he wants this time?” Mahdi spits out when Trevor and Even move further away from their table.

 

“He probably wants to get Even to go solo this time.” Noora snarls, chasing her words with a gulp of alcohol.

 

“Well he’s not Sonja, so Even won’t take it, even if Trevor offers it.”

 

Chris agrees,“I trust Even, but I still hate that guy.”

 

Before anyone else can say anymore, Even’s walking back over. He’s silent at first, taking a slow sip from his beer like he knows they’re all staring at him, dying to know what Trevor said to him.

 

When he looks up to find all their eyes on him, he raises an eyebrow, “He wants to sign us.”

 

No one says anything, but their mouths hang half-open in surprise.

 

Mahdi breaks the silence first,“W-What?”

 

Even’s face break into a smile, “He wants all of us, as a band.”

 

“Are you serious?” Noora shouts.

 

Even nods, “He’s wants to talk to us as soon as we get back.”

 

That's all it takes for it finally hit them.

 

“We’re getting signed?” Mahdi shouts in disbelief.

 

“It’s finally happening!” Chris adds raising her glass.

 

They all do the same, “We’re getting signed”

 

They all cheer to it.

 

The nights get exponentially better; they’re no longer sulking in the loss from earlier that day. They’re drinking and dancing and cheering so loudly, Isak can feel people staring at them. Not that he cares, especially with Jonas drunkenly dancing against him.

 

Isak notices it’s only midnight while he’s struggling through the crowd in the back of the club in search of the restroom. He knows he’s not as drunk as the rest of the band is, but he still has to keep one hand on the wall to steady himself as he makes it down the hallway.

 

It’s surprisingly empty in the bathroom, nothing but wet tile and flickering lights meet him. Isak’s already inside the stall when he hears the door creak open.

 

“I can’t believe Even’s hear.” someone outside the stall laughs, “He’s a joke.”

 

“His entire band is.” Another boy adds

 

That’s all Isak bothers to listen to before he’s pushing open the stall to end their conversation. It doesn’t surprise him when he finds that the voices belong to the boys in Even’s ex-band. There’s only two of them in the hallway, but he instantly recognizes the taller one to be Sana’s bother. And he knows they must recognize him because their eyes widen when they see him come out.

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

The two boys share a glance, but Isak doesn't know what they’re going to do until Sana’s bother steps forward.

 

“We know Even a lot better than you do.” He spits out, eyes meeting Isak’s, “So, I think we do.”

 

Isak knows he’s a lot smaller than them, but that doesn’t stop him from matching the boy’s step. It’s when they’re standing inches apart that the size difference between them really shows. He’s not only taller, but he’s broader. With wide shoulders and a clenched jaw that should intimidate him, but right now he doesn’t let that faze him.

 

“You don’t.” Isak continues, voice flat and harsh, “So, shut the fuck up.”

 

Once the words come out, they even surprise Isak. He knows he should stop, because he’s only instigating and provoking the boy in front of him. But he can’t get the way they snarled Even’s name out his memory.

 

“Elias.” He hears the second boy say like he’s trying to get his friend to relax.

 

It goes ignored when Elias laughs mockingly, eyes never leaving Isak’s.

 

“This is a joke, the entire band is joke.” He repeats, “That’s why Sonja left.”

 

Before he can finish Isak is pushing at Elias’s chest. Not hard enough to hurt him, but rough enough to make him stop.

 

Isak allows himself the quick moment of satisfaction when he watches Elias stumble backwards. But it’s over quick when he regains his balance, face twisting in anger when he thrashes forward.

 

It’s like it’s in slow motion, because Isak can watch Elias’s first move towards him. It’s painfully slow, almost taunting, the way he can literally see Elias tuck his thumb behind his knuckles, knowing it’ll eventually collide with the side of his face.

 

When it finally meets his cheek, the force is enough to send Isak falling backwards until the tile wall breaks his fall.

 

“Hey.” someone yells.

 

It’s followed by the squeaking of their shoes across the tiled floor as they rush out the bathroom, but the throbbing erupting at back of his head keeps him from doing the same.

 

Suddenly, there’s a stranger leaning over him, “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine.” Isak brushes the man off, attempting to stand up, but the small blackening spots in his vision make him stumble back onto the floor.

 

“You’re bleeding” is all he says, quickly grabbing a stack of paper towel, stuffing them under Isak’s noise.

 

Isak blinks slowly, trying to breathe through the pain. He really wishes his hands would stop shaking so he can he hold the ball of napkins under his nose himself, instead of stanger.

 

“Is there someone I can get?” the man asks next giving him arm a small shake, trying to keep Isak from letting his eyes fall shut.

 

“Even.” Isak murmurs. It’s only after a few seconds, he’s adding, “Jonas, get Jonas.”

 

The stranger nods, quickly running back out into the crowd in search of them. Isak remains on the floor, head tilted backwards attempting to keep the blood from falling down his face. When he closes his eyes, the pain seems to magnify. It’s like he can focus on the the pain pulsating through him as he waits for his friends to come.

 

“Isak.” a familiar voice shouts.

 

He follows it to find everyone crowding into the bathroom, falling to their knees to meet him.

 

“What happened?” Jonas immediately asks bringing a hand up to his cheek.

 

He looks up at Even, and then at Sana. The guilt strewn across their faces make Isak shake his head, “Just some drunk guys. I didn’t even see them.”

 

It’s all he can say before Jonas is tilting his head, making him wince when he touches the left side of his face. His hand moves under Isak’s chin, so he can inspect the injury without placing pressure on it.

 

“How come every time we got out of town, someone always ends up getting punched?” Mahdi tries to joke, but it only earns him several scowled “Mahdi”.

 

“Shit, is it too soon?” He quickly apologizes.

 

Isak tries to smile behind the lump of bloody paper towels still in his hands, “Just a little bit, Mahdi.”

 

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” Jonas asks, eyes still focused on the bruising beginning to color his skin.

 

“No.” Isak says quickly, “it’s just my nose. I don’t want to be in the emergency room all night.”

 

Jonas looks at him like he’s ready to go anyway, “Are you sure?”

 

“I’m fine, Jonas. Just give me some time, I’m okay.”

 

A few moments go by as Isak tries to get the blood from his nose to quit falling. Just when he thinks it's stopped, Vilde steps forward, “I think the back of your head is bleeding too.”

 

Immediately, Isak’s hand goes to where the pain’s still beating at the base of scalp. He’s not surprised when he brings his fingers back around to find them wet with blood.

 

“Fuck, Isak.” Jonas only sighs when he shrugs off the plaid shirt he had been wearing to press against the back of Isak’s skull.

 

“I think we should take him to the hospital.” Noora speaks up.

 

“I’m not going to the hospital.” Isak repeats.

 

He can hear his voice echo off the bathroom’s walls, so he doesn’t miss the way it shakes when he speaks.

 

When Jonas pushes his clothing against it, he’s in so much pain that he has to clench his teeth together to keep himself from showing it. He can’t do anything, but bury his fingernails into his palms and pinch his eyes shut. He can’t even begin to think about the worried glances staring back down at him. So instead, he just stares at the blood cracking over his knuckles until it feels like he can breathe again.

 

“Just” Isak finally exhales, “just get me out of here.”

 

Jonas is more than ready to do so, but he won’t let Isak move until the bleeding has stopped and he can stand up on his own. Isak catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror when they walk out the bathroom. The dried blood on his cheek and the purpling bruises make him feel a lot worse than he already does.

 

They all head back to the hotel after that. Even though he’s told them he’d be fine going back on his own, they insisted on leaving together. He feels bad that their night is cut short because of him.

 

Isak heads straight to bathroom. He thinks he’d feel a lot better if his face wasn’t streaked with blood. Yet, each time he scrubs his face, his knuckles meet his nose.

 

When the door slowly opens he expects it to be Jonas returning with ice, but when Sana steps in, he nearly freezes.

 

She moves forward to sit next to where he's standing in front of the mirror.

 

“Are you alright?” She says softly, catching his eyes in the mirror.

 

Isak nods, ”I’m good.”

 

After a moment of silence, she starts back up, “Did Elias really do that?”

 

“No.” Isak’s lie comes quick, “I told you, I don’t know who did.”

 

Sana gives him a look before continuing, “I know, Isak. He already texted me.”

 

Isak sighs, keeping his voice low, “To be fair, I hit him first.”

 

“Fighting? In the bathroom?” Sana shakes her head, “Why?”

 

“He was talking about the band and Even. And I know he’s your brother, but he-” Isak begins to explain before Sana stops him.

 

“ _Oh._ ” is all she says, until she smiles weakly, “Sorry my brother hit you.”

 

Isak chuckles lightly, “Sorry I hit your brother. At least I know now not to start fights with anyone bigger than me.”

 

Sana laughs too, “Or in bathrooms.”

 

Isak thinks she’s going to say something, but the door pulls open stopping her. She gives him one last smile before leaving when Jonas walks in, ice full bucket in his hands.

 

“Your face looks fucked up.” Jonas tells him, moving forward to wrap some of the ice cubes into a towel.

 

“It looks worse than it feels.” Isak lies trying not to hiss when Jonas places the ice pack on his cheek.

 

Jonas hums an apology, moving the ice so it can sit under his jaw instead.

 

“And you're sure you didn’t see who did this?”

 

“Yes, Jonas.”

 

Isak knows that if it hadn’t been for the knock on the door, Jonas would go on. So, he’s more than grateful when the light tapping comes again, but when Even’s voice is coming through the wood that changes.

 

“Can I come in?”

 

Jonas answers a low “Yes” back.

 

Even steps in, but remains as far away from them as possible.

 

“Are you alright?” Even asks with his head tucked between his shoulders, back pressed up against the door.

 

Jonas answers for him, “It’s just starting to bruise, so it’ll hurt a lot worse in the morning.”

 

“And the back of his head?”

 

Jonas takes a quick look, flinching when he sees the knotted curls and blood.

 

“It’s fine.” Isak finally speaks up.

 

“You probably shouldn’t sleep tonight.” Even says, “just incase there’s any more damage.”

 

Jonas nods in agreement, “Yea, I didn’t even think about that.”

 

“Can I help with anything?” Even offers, “I can stay up with you or-”

 

“We don’t need anything” is all Jonas says shifting his attention back onto Isak so his back is to Even.

 

Isak quickly shuts his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Even’s face when he walks back out. They only open when the door shuts, and Jonas’s fingertips graze the side of face, then cautiously down the slope of his nose.

 

“Maybe I shouldn’t bring you to these things anymore.” He starts, “Because every time I do, you end up getting hurt.”

 

He sets his hand on Isak’s shoulder, but his eyes remains on his face.

 

“Hey.” He pushes gently on Jonas’s shoulder, “It’s not your fault.”

 

“Yea, but-”Jonas begins to argue when Isak interrupts him.

 

“The only real victim tonight is this shirt.” Isak teases tugging at the collar, “I don’t think the blood will ever come out of this.” Isak says glancing down at the spots of blood staining his t-shirt.

 

“Good, it was an ugly shirt.”

 

“Hey. ” Isak shoves at his friend's shoulder.

 

Jonas laughs, catching the bottom material so he pull it off Isak, carefully tugging at the collar of it so it’s doesn’t pull on his hair.

 

“God” Jonas sighs when he sees the dried blood on Isak’s chest, “How much did you bleed?”

 

Even more streaks appear when Isak twists his shoulders to look at his back.

 

“Can you stand up?” Jonas asks him, still seated in front of Isak.

 

Isak nods, hopping off the sink top, so he can tug his jeans off. He doesn’t realize how disoriented he still is until he stumbles over the tub, gripping onto the towel railing for support.

 

“Alright?” Jonas immediately puts a warm hand on his shoulder to keep him from tipping over.

 

“Here.” Jonas instructs, pushing on Isak’s shoulder so he can sit down, “Let me.”

 

It’s only with Jonas’s help that Isak makes it into the tub, tucking his knees under his chin, so he can rest forward on them.

 

The water’s warm on his skin, and Jonas’s hands tickle the back of his neck as he brushes the wet curls clean.

 

There’s so much blood, and Isak watches it all swirl down the drain, teeth biting into the side of his cheek to keep himself from making any noises. He knows Jonas is doing his best to keep from pressing on the cut he’s trying to clean, but the sharp tugs that happen when Jonas brushes through them still make him wince.

 

He feels bad for letting Jonas do all the work to clean him up, especially when Jonas towels down his arms to make sure he’s dry and helps pull his clothing over him.

 

“Better.” Jonas says, brushing Isak’s damp curls past his ears.

 

“This feels worse than every hangover I’ve ever had, combined.” Isak says, hands clutching the edge of the sink he’s sitting on top of.

 

“Even worse than the one you had on New Years?”

 

Iska laughs, remembering that night from almost a year ago, “Worse.” Isak nods.

 

“And it’s only going to be worse in the morning.” Jonas reminds him.

 

Isak groans, already thinking about the pain he’ll feel once the bruises settle.

 

“I’m ready to go to sleep and forget about it.” Isak yawns.

 

“You can’t.” Jonas shakes his head, “just in case.”

 

“Jonas.” Isak grunts, “I’m fine.”

 

Jonas takes a step forward, “Isak, the back of your head is split open, you are not fine.”

 

Isak’s eyes roll, and he attempts to push past Jonas so he can get off the sink, but Jonas’s hands still his movements, fingers gripping his waist, keeping him seated on the countertop.

 

“Isak.” Jonas warns him

 

“So, I’m suppose to stay up all night while everyone else gets to sleep?” Isak mutters.

 

“I’ll stay up with you.” Jonas promises.

 

Isak face raises so he can look back at Jonas. A small smile begins to pull the corner of his mouth up, “And what are we going to do all night?”

 

Jonas catches onto Isak’s smirk quickly, curling his hands over Isak’s thighs so he can pull him closer until he’s between Isak’s legs.

 

Jonas says, his voice slow like a sultry tease, “Whatever you want to do?”

 

Isak smiles using the legs he’s wrapping around Jonas’s hips to bring the boy even closer to him until they’re flushed together.

 

“I wanna do _this_ ” is all Isak says before he’s bracketing Jonas’s waist with his thighs, and leaning in, sliding his hand into the back of Jonas’s hair to tilt his head just the way he wants it.

 

It's still slow and light, until lips become tongue and tongues become teeth. Until he's sharing Jonas’s breath while their tongues slide together, hot and electric and so good.

 

Isak can feel Jonas struggle where to place his hands because each time they come down to touch him, they quickly come off him like Jonas is remembering Isak’s bruised skin.

 

Isak can feel the grunt Jonas lets rumble through the back of his throat in frustration when he has to settle for the sides of Isak’s face, fingers spread up against the mirror instead of on Isak.

 

Jonas lets him kiss him, arms folded around the back of his neck, lazily slotting their tongues together. That’s all they’re doing until Jonas is stuffing his hand in the front of his jeans, not bothering to unbutton them.

 

“Wait” Isak pants catching his wrist, “they’re going to hear us.”

 

Jonas smirks, “then be quiet.”

 

And Isak doesn’t know how Jonas expects him to do that when he’s mouthing down the side of his neck, until he’s down his torso, tongue licking across the lines of his chest.

 

“Up” is all Jonas says taping Isak’s hip so he can pull his sweats down.

 

It’s obvious he’s never done this before, and Isak can feel Jonas's nervousness run down his skin. Jonas isn't band, it's just he's a little sloppy and uncoordinated. And every once in awhile pushes down more than he should, making a choking noise that vibrates through Isak.

 

But he's with Jonas, and Jonas is with him. So Isak doesn't think he's want it any differently. 

 

It’s an embarrassingly short amount of time before Isak feels the tightening in his lower abdomen. His grips on a fistful of Jonas’s curls as a warning, “I’m c-close.” But Jonas makes no effort to move and sucks harder.

 

Isak can feel everything: Jonas’s tongue, his lips, the warm breath coming out of his nose, _everything_. It’s hot and amazing and Jonas is sucking harder and harder, wrapping his hand around the base. His eyes meet Jonas’s and the look is enough to drive him closer.

 

“Jonas.” He releases, cursing the other boys name.

 

Isak  misses it when Jonas moves off his knees, standing back up to stand between Isak’s legs, his softening cock pressed against Jonas’s stomach.

 

“I think they heard you.” Jonas teases, voice hoarse and thick.

 

Isak blushes when he realizes they probably did.

 

“You’re so loud.” Jonas whispers against his lips.

 

“Fuck you, Jonas.” Isak laughs, but it’s muffled when Jonas pushes their mouth together, tongue poking it’s way around his mouth.

 

“Like you’re any quieter.” He smirks, when he pulls away from Jonas to suck in a breath.

 

Jonas’s eyebrows raise, like he’s taking it as a challenge, “I’m quieter than you.”

 

“Prove it” is all Isak says before he’s unbuckling Jonas’s pants, palming over him through his clothing, trying to coax out the moans Jonas is attempting to hold back.

 

When he’s finished, there’s fog clouding up the mirror, and window. And it turns out, Jonas isn’t any quieter.

 

***

 

It’s not even 3 when Isak is woken up again. He spent most of the night kept up by Jonas’s nudges, but they must have fallen asleep sometime after local ads started airing on the television.

 

The weight slowly comes off his eyelids when he blinks them open. He’s so tired that it hurts to move, although that may be the bruises. With the covers pulled into his chest, he’s ready to hurt Jonas for forcing him up, but he finds it’s Even’s gentle touch rocking him awake. Meanwhile, Jonas is buried deep into his pillow, mouth agape in deep sleep.

 

“Jonas said not to let you fall asleep.” Even whispers.

 

“Fuck, Jonas.” Isak mumbles.

 

He hears Even laugh while he’s trying to tuck his face back into his pillow.

 

Even’s persistent, so the next “Wake up” Even says includes him tugging the covers off of Isak.

 

“Fuck off, Even.” Isak groans trying to keep his grip on the duvet he’s wrestling Even for.

 

When Even manages to tear them off, Isak whines, clutching his pillow instead “Even.”

 

“You could have a concussion.”

 

Isak deadpans, “I hate you.”

 

Finally, he gives in, huffing loudly when he has to sit up. As soon as he does, Even’s there to meet him, sitting adjacent to him at the foot of the bed.

 

When his eyes find Isak’s face, there’s no longer a comforter or a pillow to hide behind, so Even’s eyes scan across it, “You look terrible.” He whispers

 

Ignoring the throbbing on his cheek, Isak’s eyes roll, “You woke me up just to tell me that.”

 

“No, I woke you up so you wouldn't fall into a coma while you were asleep.” Even laughs, “I told you that because your face looks like a blueberry.”

 

“Well, I got into a fight, what’s your excuse?”

 

Even’s mouth drops into a grin when he pushes Isak’s shoulder back. They’re still laughing when Jonas shifts in the bed, murmuring in his pillow from their noise.

 

“He can’t sleep through anything.” Isak says.

 

“I think I saw some tables over by the dock, if you want to go.” Even says, “So we don’t wake him up.”

 

“Outside?” Isak shouts, trying to keep his voice as low possible, “At this time? Do you actually want to die?”

 

Even laughs lightly, “You’ve already gotten in one fight today, the universe can’t have any more bad luck to give you.”

 

Isak glances at the door, hesitantly. It’s not even the thought of sitting in an empty parking lot that makes him want to stay indoors. It’s knowing he’s going to be alone with Even that frightens him the most.

 

“C’mon” Even encourages him, “I promise, if any serial killers come to attack us, I’ll use my last dying breathe to protect you.”

 

“You’re so dramatic sometimes, Even, you know that?”

 

Even laughs, “You can thank me once I save your life _again_.”

 

Isak tries really hard to keep himself from laughing, but Even’s grinning from ear to ear, pulling on his wrist to get him out of bed. And Isak really hasn’t noticed it before now, but Even’s really fucking hard to say no to.

 

It’s how he finds himself stuck in a lawn chair across from Even at 3am.

 

“It’s creepy, isn’t?” Even says staring back at the hotel, the neon sign casting a dull purple glow on the building.

 

“It’s like the fucking Bates Motel.” Isak shudders, “I keep waiting for someone to jump out of those bushes.”

 

Even looks in the direction of the scraggly shrubs, “It’d probably just be some band guy chain smoking cigarettes.”

 

“I’d rather take my chances with the serial killer.”

 

Even’s laughs loudly this time, head thrown back and mouth fallen open.

 

“I already fought one of those off tonight anyway.”

 

Isak expects Even to laugh and tease him about the bruises that fight has earned him, but he doesn’t. Instead Even shifts uncomfortably in his chair bringing his hands together like he’s focusing on the next words going to come out of his mouth.

 

“I know that was Elias.”

 

And Isak wishes he could lie, that he could look Even in the eye and tell him it wasn’t Elias because Even’s looking at him like he’s the one who hurt Isak.

 

“Who told you?”

 

“No one.” Even shrugs, “But if anyone was going to start a fight with us, it would be Elias”

 

Isak doesn’t like the way Even’s staring at the ground, and he thinks whatever pain he’s feeling can’t compare to what Even’s going through.

 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Isak begins, “but what happened between you two?”

 

Even takes a long sigh, before beginning, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you.” Even pauses, “It’s just a really long story.”

 

“You are forcing me to stay up the entire night.” Isak reminds him.

 

A small smile spreads across his face, so it makes Isak feel a little better when Even starts.

 

“I didn’t meet Elias and everyone else until I was halfway through my second year. The band was just beginning to form, when Elias heard I knew how to play guitar.”

 

He goes on, “Before them, I didn’t have a lot of friends. I did theater and was in Studio Film.”

 

“You were a theater kid?” Isak teases.

 

Even laughs, “We can’t all be popular, Isak.”

 

“So what made you quit?”

 

“The whole music scene,” He admits, “In a way, I guess I owe them for that. I don’t think I would be who I am if I hadn’t of meet them.”

 

“Then what changed?”

 

“Everything that happened between us, happened because of our school’s talent show. It was the first time we played someplace other than Elias’s parent's garage. So, it was big deal.”

 

The moment of silence Even takes before he continues actually scares Isak because Even shifts again, clasping his hands so he can distract himself with the fumbling of his thumbs.

 

Isak lets the silence continue, giving Even all the time he needs before he picks up his story.

 

“We spent at least a month hardcore practicing before it. It’s all we would do for like six hours straight, every night. It wasn’t even a hobby anymore, it was a full time thing.”

 

Isak only nods, letting Even know he’s following along, that he’s here with him.

 

“The days leading up to it, I didn’t sleep very much. I figured it was just anxiety building up. And, when the concert finally came, I was playing on like two or three hours of sleep, so I wasn’t really myself, and I _knew_ that, but I played anyway.” Even continues, “You know, we practiced weeks for this, it was suppose to be our breakthrough moment. We made it to our last song, and it was going good, really good. It was overwhelming and intense and _so_ much. It was after that everything happens. I don’t even really remember all the details that happened, but I remember doing it.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“We we’re going to do this really loud crescendo to end our performance. So, I think it was an accumulation of that and the sleep deprivation, and just everything that set me off.”

 

Even pauses.“That night, I ended up smashing my guitar and ruined some of the speakers we had on stage.”

 

“But” Isak speaks up, “Don’t all the big rockstars do that, though?”

 

“I didn’t do it to be Jimi Hendrix, Isak.”

 

“Then why did you do it?” Isak asks, although the answer is something he can already assume.

 

“I’m bipolar, Isak.” Even finally says, a visible weight coming off his shoulder when he does.

 

Except, whatever pressure's coming off of Even’s shoulder is finding its way on Isak’s.

 

“Oh” is all Isak says although there are so many other things he wishes he could say.

 

“It’s not something I’m ashamed of or try to hide” Even says, “but I wanted you to know who I really am before I told you.”

 

Even’s face stay expressionless like he’s giving Isak time to react. Except, Isak isn’t really reacting. He’s picking on a loose string on the hem of his sweater, trying to avoid Even’s gaze.

 

However, Even keeps talking, refusing to let the silence settle between them, “That’s probably the worst I’ve ever been. It’s been a little easier to deal with now that I’ve been diagnosed.”

 

“Did you ever try to explain that to them?”

 

Even shakes his head, “I tried, but videos of me kept going around, and no one really wanted anything to do with me.”

 

“Then, I’m glad I fought Elias.” Isak confesses, finally bringing himself to look back at Even.

 

When he does, he watches Even’s mouth twitch into a small smile.

 

“I’m so sorry for that, though.”

 

“We’re even now.” Isak shrugs, “You punched Nickolai at In The Park for me, so” Isak sighs, “an eye for an eye.”

 

Even laughs louder this time, “I can’t believe you just said that.”

 

“You were thinking the same thing!” Isak jokes.

 

It makes Even laugh again until he’s leaning forward putting his hand on Isak’s knee. Isak’s laughter immediately stops, and the heavy weight of Even’s palm on his leg makes him shift in his seat until Even’s letting go.

 

“So” Isak coughs as if Even’s not shaking his head in confusion, “What happened after that?”

 

Even clears his throat, pushing aside the embarrassment to continue on, “I quit the band and quit music altogether. I almost transferred schools, but I knew I could get through a year of all that if it meant I could leave it all behind as soon as I graduated.”

 

“So you started playing again in college?”

 

“No.” Even shakes his head, “I wasn’t going to play ever again, until I meet Noora and Mahadi. Even then, they were already in a band, and I wasn’t going to join.”

 

“What made you?”

 

Even shrugs, “I was driving home one day and that song we played came on the radio. I thought listening to would make me feel like I was sixteen all over again, but it didn’t. I felt better, and it felt like the right time. So, I spent my entire savings on a new guitar, and joined the band.”

 

“And now look at you.”

 

“Now look at me,” Even smiles flatly,“I get my friends beat up and lose band competitions.”

 

“Even!” Isak quickly yells.

 

“I’m only kidding.” Even reassures him.

 

“I really thought you guys we’re going to win.” Isak confesses sheepishly.

 

“We did, in away.” Even says, “We still got signed.”

 

“Right.” Isak remembers, “How do even know that Trevor guy?”

 

“He’s Sonja’s label company.”

 

“He’s the guy that was going to split up the band?”

 

“So you see why everyone kind of hates him now?”

 

“If everyone hates him then why are going to sing with him?”

 

“We’ve been playing on our own for five years, if we don’t take this opportunity, it may never come up again.”

 

“But what if he ruins your band?”

 

“He’s not going to ruin our band, Isak.” Even laughs lightly.

 

“Is that why Sonja didn’t want you to come?” Isak suddenly asks, “Because she knew Trevor would be here?”

 

Even looks taken aback, and by the stuttering he’s trying to speak past,  Isak knows he is.

 

“No” Even answers anyway, “She didn't want me to come because she knew Elias was going to be here.”

 

“I thought he didn’t even tell Sana until he was here?”

 

“Trevor’s looking at their band to sign too. This was suppose like their audition.” Even explains.

 

“And you’re completely okay with being on the same label as your ex-band and girlfriend?”

 

Even shrugs, “It’s what’s best for the band.”

 

“But what’s best for you?”

 

“We need this, Isak. We’ve worked too hard for it.”

 

“Okay.” Isak only nods, “Congrats, then.”

 

Isak knows his words sound defeated, but he’s hoping Even will blame it on their lack of sleep, not his newfound hatred for Trevor. But by the way Even mutters a small “thanks”, Isak knows Even understands.

 

“It won’t be too bad.” Even assures him, “He’s done a lot for Sonja, so.”

 

“Have you told her yet?”

 

“Not yet. We don’t talk that often while she’s away on tour.” Even confesses, “It’s better for the both of us, if we don’t.”

 

“Why?” Isak asks before he can realize he already knows the answer.

 

Even only laughs out a, “why do you think?” for his answer.

 

“Right.” Isak nods, cheeks beginning to tint a light shade of red.

 

“Plus.” Even adds, “she’s really busy, and so am I.”

 

“It doesn’t bother you?”

 

“Not anymore.” Even tells him, “Sometimes sharing isn’t always for the best.”

 

Isak breath catches in his throat after Even says it because he knows Even isn’t talking about Sonja, he’s talking about him.

 

“But sometimes, that’s all you can do to make things work.” Isak finally whispers.

 

It feels like Isak can’t move until he knows Even’s response. When it comes, he almost wishes it hadn’t because Even’s nodding his head, offering a weak smile.

 

“I understand” is all he says, his voice so low Isak almost doesn’t hear it.

 

Isak’s almost apologizes when Even stands up, “It’s almost 6, we should probably get back.”

 

“Looks like I made it through the night, alive.”Isak teases, hoping some the tension will disappear with it.

 

Even smiles back at him, “Looks like I saved your life after all.”

 

Isak rolls his eyes, fighting the smile spreading across his face.

 

The sun begins to rise when they make it back in, but it takes another two hours before the band’s waking up and packing their things.

 

When they make back into town, Isak can feel something changed, and he knows it’s not ever going back.

 

***

 

It takes two very long days for Trevor to schedule them in for a meeting. The entire band is on edge until it happens. When the day finally arrives, the meeting seems to take forever. Meanwhile, Sana, Magnus, Eva and Isak are sitting alone in the restaurant, empty chairs surrounding their tables as they wait for the band to join them afterwards. As time drags on, the bouquet of flowers and bright aluminum balloons with congratulations spelled across them seem less and less appropriate. It doesn't help that Magnus, Eva and Sana won’t stop theorizing about what’s happening in Trevor’s office right now.

Magnus leans forward, glancing around the restaurant before he whispers a low, “I still don’t trust him.”

 

“Vilde’s with them.” Sana reminds him, “She’s their manager, she won’t let him do anything they don’t like.”

 

“And Jonas does have three years of business classes, so he’s used to all the contracts and lawyers.” Isak adds.

 

Magnus leans back in chair, “I know, but something still seems off about that guy.”

 

“Magnus” Eva sighs, “this is really big for them. We can’t let them know we’re suspicious.”

 

“Alright, but if something happens, I told you so.” Magnus warns them.

 

“And don’t mention any of that to them when they get here.” Sana tells him.

 

“I won’t.” Magnus promises, “I’ll just hate Trevor silently then.”

 

Everyone laughs earning them all a sharp looks from the men and women at the nearing tables. Their voices soften immediately after.

 

“I still can’t believe you got us reservations here.” Eva says, voice just nearly above a whisper.

 

“My uncles knows the owner.” Sana simply shrugs, as if they weren’t dining at one of the most exclusive clubs in the city.

 

“And you’re sure he’s okay with letting us use the rooftop afterwards? ”Eva asks.

 

Sana nods, “As long as we don’t ruin it.” She says, eyes narrowing at Magnus.

 

His hands shoot up in defense, “Hey! When have I ever ruined something?”

 

Sana looks likes she’s about to begin a list off a few places for evidence, when they all hears Mahdi’s voice. The instantly look towards the door, finding their friends following the waiter over to their table.

 

“How did it go?” Sana immediately asks when they take their seats.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever signed so many paper in my life. Mahdi chuckles, “I probably got carpal tunnel just from signing this contract.”

 

“They made you sign a contract.” Eva shouts, “Does that that mean you’re in?”

 

“It’s only a year commitment plan.” Jonas explains, “but if they like us, we can get something more permanent.”

 

All consideration for the guests surrounding them gets forgotten after those few words. Then, they're erupting into squeals and excited “Congratulations” loud enough that everyone in the restaurant is starring.

 

“That’s so fucking exciting!” Magnus exclaims, patting Mahdi’s shoulder in excitement.

 

“I know!” Mahdi nods, “they’re gonna help us put out our first studio album.”

 

“Already?”

 

“Trevor says that the first year always determines a band’s success rate for the future.” Vilde explains.

 

“And you guys are sure about this.” Sanas asks, making the atmosphere settle down from the rush of excitement they previously been surrounded by.

 

“It’s what we’ve been playing for.” Noora nods, “This is what the past years have been leading up to.”

 

“It’s unbelievable.” Even exhales.

 

The night goes on, full of shiny glasses reflecting chandelier lighting, and shimmering champagne delivered in ice buckets. They’re eating under velvet tablecloths and crisp dinner napkins. It doesn’t feel real.

 

And Isak can feel the tension itching at skin like nails grazing his bare arms every time Even looks at him. Especially when everyone heads to the roof to watch the sunset, and they're all surrounded by the warmth.

 

It’s 11 when everyone begins to leave. Magnus and Mahdi pair off first, heading to another club, but not before they try to get everyone else to come too. Everyone turns down the invitation, but it doesn't stop Mahdi and Magnus from  wildly chasing down a taxi. The rest of the girls take the van back to Noora’s. So, when Even, Jonas and Isak are left on the balcony, it’s like Isak can feel the night close around them. It’s like they’re rising with the breaths of steam from the pool.

 

From where they're seated, they can see over the edge and out onto the city's skyline. The darkening sky casts a dark back drop, shadowing the distant building lights. Isak’s watching the flickering street lamps from somewhere in the distance, enjoying the way the soft night wind plays against the warm skin Jonas is pressing against him. They’re sitting in silence. It’s a still moment, Isak thinks as he takes it all in. With Jonas and Even on either side of him, and the city in front of him, it doesn’t feel real.

 

Then, Jonas is sliding a hand around him, bringing them close enough that their lips touch. Gently, he’s bringing them together. Before they kiss, a warm hand cups his face, and Jonas’s thumb slides across his cheks. He pulls him down and into an open-mouthed kiss. It almost feels to slow, too intimate to think through. Especially with Even sitting next to them. Isak feels like he could melt, right there, in Jonas’s cradling arms. Fuck, if it hadn’t been for Jonas pulling them apart, he would have.

 

Isak’s eyes flutter open to the sight of Jonas lazily grinning back at him.

 

“Let’s get in.” Jonas says, head nodding in the direction of the pool.

 

“It’s midnight.” Isak reminds him.

 

Jonas only shrugs, already kicking of his shoes. He’s the first to pull off his shirt, pausing when he has to undo his belt and finds Even and Isak still seated, still fully clothed.

 

“Are you not coming in?”

 

“We don’t have suits.”

 

Jonas laughs, “It’s not like we haven’t seen each other naked before.”

 

Isak can feel the small blush heat his cheeks when Jonas winks at the same time he pushes his trousers past his ankles. Jonas dives in once he’s undressed. The water rippling when Jonas disappears under it, only to resurface with wet, flat curls and droplets falling down his face.

 

“C’mon” Jonas calls out to them, “Come in.”

 

Isak moves first, shaking fingers pulling off his clothing until he splashes into the pool. It’s while he’s coming back up for air that he feels the second wave crash against him.

 

“The water’s fucking freezing, Jonas.” Even shivers, large hands pushing back the hair from his face.

 

“It feels nice.” Jonas argues swimming towards the edge, so he can lean on the pool’s wall.

 

It’s when they’re all along the pool’s wall that Even speaks, “I used to be a lifeguard when I was in highschool.”

 

“Serious?” Jonas laughs.

 

“Yea, I did all the training and took all the classes.” Even says, “I’m still technically certified.”

 

“Save anyone?”

 

“All the time.”Even reminisces, “But I only had to do the whole cpr thing one time.”

 

“Why, what happened?”

 

“I quit.” Even laughs, “It was fucking scary.”

 

“Fuck, that sounds stressful.”

 

“It was! And I worked everyday in the sun.”

 

“Fuck that.” Jonas laughs.

 

“Fuck that.” Even agrees, the same smile strewn across his face, “What about you? Have embarrassing jobs growing up?”

 

“I did!” Jonas grins, “I delivered pizzas.”

 

“That’s not embarrassing!” Even shouts back.

 

“Fuck you, you didn't see the uniform!”

 

“Fuck, I forgot about that.” Isak chuckles, “Wasn’t there a cheese on cap and mouse on the back?"

 

“Isak!” Jonas shouts, slapping his hands across the surface, the water splashes right in his friend's face.

 

Isak squeals, trying to shield the spurts of water coming at him. When the splashing settles, he hears Even laughing and Jonas speaking, “Isak had it worse. He worked at an ice cream parlor and they had to sing every time someone left a tip.”

 

“Shut up!” Isak yells pushing his friends, so the water slaps against his shoulders.

 

“Sing it, Isak.” Jonas teases, sending small waves Isak’s way, “I know you still remember the song!”

 

The water violently thrashes around them when Jonas reaches for Isak, poking at his sides.

 

“Jonas” Isak giggles,"Fuck off" He says, trying to get out of his friend's grasp.

 

Jonas and Isak are still laughing when Jonas gets Isak to turn around so their wet chests are sliding together. Jonas’s mouth is warm compared to the cold water their floating in.They kissg in sync to the waves, gently knocking into each other by the force of the water.

 

Isak’s mouth is wet when he pulls away, small droplets trickling down his face from his hair. Before his breathing can settle, he’s swimming forward gripping Even’s neck. It's slow and sweet when he kisses Even. And the blue glow around them makes it feel even more dreamy.

 

“We should get more of that champagne.” He hears Jonas say before Even’s pulling away to say, “I think I saw a bottle of it left on the table.”

 

The water thrashes around them when Jonas pulls himself out of the pool, wet feet padding against the dry concrete. He returns to edge of the pool with the bottle in one hand and towels in the other. He sits both on the ledge before he jumps back in.

 

Foregoing the wine glasses, Jonas sips it from the bottle. When he hands it to Even, he does the same. When Isak reaches for it, Even pulls it back, moving it toward Isak’s lips instead. It only takes Isak a few moments for him to understand what Even’s doing. When he finally does, he’s tilting his chin up, parting his lips. Even pours the liquid slowly, giving him time to to swallow it down. When Even finally pulls it away, a few drops spill from his mouth, but they’re quickly captured by Even’s thumb, drying his chin clean.

 

His eyes stay on Even when the same boy brings his thumb to Isak’s lips. The faint taste of the champagne can be tasted when Isak sucks the tip of finger into his mouth.

 

Isak’s ready to part them wider when Even pulls them out, swimming backward to put distance between them.

 

Even clears his throat, “Here.” He says to Jonas, swimming toward him to hand him the alcohol.

 

Jonas meets him halfway until they’re all within arms length away, creating a small circle between them.

 

“It’s fucking freezing.” Isak sighs swimming past both of boys so he can find warmth underneath the towel.

 

He’s wrapping it around his shoulder when Even comes to join him.

 

“This place is crazy.” Even smiles, his breath coming out in clouds.

 

Isak laughs, burying his hands in his towel, “The best way to celebrate.” Isak nods.

 

“I don’t know how Santa does it.” Even laughs, “It’s like she knows people everywhere.”

 

“She probably does.” Jonas adds finally swimming over, resting his elbows on the edge of the pool next to Isak.

 

It’s the first time it becomes silent. Aside from the clinking from the bottle being seated on the concrete, the only thing other that can be heard is the pool filtration system.

 

“You should see your hair.” Isak laughs, placing his hands on Jonas’s knotted strands. Isak continues to laugh at the sight. Jonas's curls have been strengthened by the water, so they they lay flat over his head.

 

“It still looks better than yours.” Jonas teases back, giving his hair quick shakes, droplets splattering onto Isak when he does so.

 

Isak isn’t quick enough so his face is splattered with pool water. In retaliation, Isak kicks his feets so water thrashes onto Jonas. Jonas captures his ankles, locking his legs together so the splashing stops.

 

“Jonas” Isak shrieks squaring away from Jonas’s grip. When he manages to do, he’s laying on his back, the towel loosely draped across his waist.

 

He’s staring up the sky, so he doesn’t notice Even’s shoulder brushing against him when he joins him.

 

It’s only when Even whispers “Are you cold?” that he finally sees him.

 

Isak shakes his head, eyes still facing forward. He can hear the water beginning to lap, so he knows Jonas must be swimming away from them.

 

“Did you tell Sonja?” Isak asks quietly.

 

“I did” is all Even answers.

 

“How’d it go?”

 

He can feel Even’s shoulder rise and fall beside him until he says, “It’ll be hard at first, working for the same guy, but I’ll get over it.”

 

“I think Jonas is the only one excited about it.”

 

Even laughs, “I know. It’s weird.”

 

Isak’s chests moves quickly while he’s laughing, but it seems to still when Even leans over him. It’s only when he realizes Even’s reaching for the bottle that he lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

 

Isak watches Even’s throat move slowly when he takes a drink. When his lips come off the bottle, Even puts a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Can I try something?” He asks quietly. When Isak nods a slow yes, it’s all the permission he needs before he’s helping Isak turn over, the towel still gathered around his hips.

 

The cold alcohol Even pours down his spine makes him shudder at first, but Even’s warm hand comes down on his torsos, stills him. The champagne pools into the narrow dip running between his shoulder and down his back.

 

Slowly, Even moves over him, the weight gently coming down until Isak’s being pushed into the ground. Before he begins, Even places a small kiss to the top of spine. Then, his lips are tailing down, tongue capturing the alcohol to sip.

 

It’s oddly similar to the night Even drank shorts off him, but with the champagne and the pool water drying off them, it’s much more.

“Is that alright?” Even voice meets his ears, while his hands curl around his hips.

 

“Yea.”Isak breathes out.

 

Even moves forward, pouring more champagne down Isak’s skin. Except this time, Even doesn’t just leave a drying trail of champagne down his back, he’s leaving wet kisses with it. Isak lets out a small whimper when Even pushes the towel down further until it’s resting on the back of his thighs.

 

With champagne still on his tongue, Even parts Isak’s legs, and then his cheeks. Isak has to bite the side his cheek to keep from moaning loudly when Even licks, small and light, over his rim. He can’t help, but jerk his hips up, demanding silently. Even pushes him back down with a firm hand on his back. His nose nudges his skin when he puffs out a warm breath over him. There’s no tongue this time, just the rough scrape of Even’s stubble over Isak’s cheeks, making Isak whine out a breathy, “ _Even_.”

Even gives in, _finally_ , and licks again, tongue flat and steady over Isak’s hole. Long, easy strokes that Isak can feel himself relaxing underneath. Even’s hands dip into his skin, pulling him further apart so he can go wider, tongue darting in between him.  

Then, Isak’s not doing anything , but moaning his way through Evens licks. Even’s not holding his hips as tightly anymore, letting Isak rock back against his mouth. Isak gasps, when Even scrapes his teeth lightly against his rim. It makes him moans louder as Even goes deeper.

 

“Here” he hears, eyes snapping open to find Jonas fishing out small packets of lube from inside of his wallet.

 

Isak actually moans at the sight of it. He buries his face into his arms, breath hitching when he feels Even’s fingers touch between his legs. When they push in, Isak bites into his arm, teeth leaving an impression in his skin when he does.

 

“Like that.” Jonas instructs, “He likes it when you you do that.”

 

Isak’s mouth drops wider when Even follows Jonas’s movements. He slides his finger deeper, then out, smooth and gentle, until Isak’s arching his back, mumbling “more more more”. 

 

His tries to settle the burning of his lungs when Even pulls back, slipping his fingers out.

 

Gently, he’s turning Isak over so he’s pressed on his back. Even kisses him soft and slow, and says “Ready?”

 

He brushes his nose over Isak’s lightly, waiting for Isak to respond with a shaky, “Yes, please, yes.”

 

Even grins, nipping his lower lip sharply before licking over them. Before his teen are stripping over the condom pocket.

 

Isak holds still, as soon as Even’s hands are sliding back up his stomach. Then, Even’s mouth is on his again. He gasps as Even’s hands slide down to his hips, and tug him forward. His hands fly to Even’s shoulders, grabbing on his skin as he brings himself closer. There’s blunt pressure, a mouth sliding down to his throat, and then, Isak’s stops him.

Even hands still, eyes searching his face for hesitation.

 

“Pool” is all Isak says, until he’s pushing on Even’s shoulder, “in the pool.”

 

Even doesn’t need to be told twice.

 

When they reenter the pool, Isak doesn’t remember the water being so cold. But then Even’s there, hot and hard inside him, sliding in slow and steady. The water thrashes around them, lapping at their chests. Isak’s back scores against the pool’s wall. He gasps, rough and ragged when Even grabs his knee to lifts him up. Isak’s eyes screw shut as he moans low while Even’s dusting kisses over his throat, under his jaw and back up his face. Not that Isak notices; he’s too focused on Even slowly pushing into him. The sound of water splashing against his skin plays in sync with Even’s thrust. Isak listens to it until he’s pulling Even closer.

 

Isak moves his hips lifts them in a short roll for more, and deeper. This time it’s Even groaning against his mouth. So, Isak does it again, and Even’s hands grab him tight around the hips.  

 

“Don’t” Even warns, “Not yet” is all the explanation he needs to see Even’s feeling it all just like he is.

 

Except, Isak doesn't listen. He’s drawing his hips back, before rocking them forward.

 

It’s almost too much; sensation running high as Isak focuses on Even and the way his thrusts grind right where Isak wants him. Isak can barely catch his breath. The little air they’re sharing becomes more humid than the air around them, but he urges Even on with his legs tight around Even’s waist, heel digging into the lower part of Even’s back whenever it feels like he’s about to ease up.

 

Even leans down, catching Isak’s lips in a bruising kiss. He tastes like chlorine and champagne, but he’s everywhere, and Isak has this distinct feeling of losing himself in this, in Even.

 

Even drags his lips down Isak’s throat , breathing against his skin as his thrusts get harder. Water drips down their necks every time they move. He’s caught up in his own release that he doesn’t realize Even’s there with him until it happens.

 

It’s afterward while Even’s still panting that he reaches between then, fingers beginning to stroke down Isak’s cock.

 

“No.” Isak forces himself to say, pushing Even’s hand off him. Even immediately pulls back, Isak’s palm pushing on his shoulder make him do so.

 

“Jonas” Isak explains tipping his head backwards to find him.

 

“I’m here.” Jonas whispers, his cold hands sliding up Isak’s chest.

 

Even’s swims to the side, allowing Jonas to fill in the spot. Jonas’s teeth graze his jaw and down his chest, right at the water line, and Isak’s whole body tenses up. He shifts down a little, replaces his hand with his mouth, and Isak can’t help but grab onto his shoulders as a warm tongue flicks across the nub. There’s heat and wet and the sharp touch of teeth, and Isak moans softly.

 

Then it’s gone, Jonas’s hand moves down his stomach, until there’s gentle fingertips at his hip.

 

“Ready, baby.” Jonas groans, putting a knee between him, pushing Isak’s legs further apart.

 

Isak lets out a whimper when Jonas brings their cocks together. His hand wraps around them tightly, and it doesn’t take long. It feels like he’s falling into his own head, for a moment, every sensation too much. Every touch, every twitch of his hips, but then Jonas brings a hand to stroke down his sides, bringing him out of it.

 

His hips jerk, once, and he spills, comes hot and hard over Jonas’s hand. It’s seconds later that Jonas is doing the same. The pool water quickly washes them clean, and they all climb out. Skin wrinkled when they do.

 

The night air makes them dress fast, shivering hands quickly pulling back on their clothes. Their hair is still wet when they climb into the back of taxi. Jonas falls asleep first on their way home.

 

It’s only because Isak’s eyes are threatening to close that he whispers to Even, “You know when you asked how Jonas could share me?”

 

Even only nods.

 

“It’s because that’s all I can give you.” Isak whispers, “that’s all I have to give.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much! \


	12. Masochist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> title: Catfish and the Bottlemen's song Masochist

 

“Spread your legs a little bit.” Even tells him.

 

Isak blushes, unmoving until Even’s toe kicks at his bare ankle. He does what he’s told, shifting so his thighs are no longer pressed together.

 

“Don’t use your knees.” Even scolds when he notices Isak’s knee hitching up, underneath the body of it.

 

“The strap’s too long.” Isak complains, fingers toying with the plastic pressed against his neck.

Even gets up, moving forward until he’s standing in front of him. Isak has to duck his head when Even presses against him to adjust the strap. A very timid blush creeps up near his ears when Even inches closer, until his chin’s hovering over Isak’s shoulder and his arms wrap over his shoulders. He feels Even’s fingertips graze the part of his neck where the strap lays.

 

Even’s breath puffs over his skin when he asks, “How’s that?”

 

Isak only nods, feeling the guitar pressed between them rise until it’s sitting higher up on his waist. Even takes a step back, peering down at the instrument.

 

Isak tries it out, fingers capturing the neck of it easier than before, “Better.”

 

“Look at you.” Even teases when Isak sets his fingers over the strings, “You almost look like you’re in the band.”

 

Isak laughs, dragging his fingers down the frets, “Maybe I’m planning on replacing you.”

 

Even grins. He sits back onto their sofa, arms falling onto the tops of the cushions. With a simple shrug of his shoulder, he smiles, “Show me what you’ve got then.”

Isak glances down at the guitar, fighting the smile across his face. The instrument's foreign and heavy in his hands. It’s evident when he scrapes his fingers over the strings. Messy cords shriek loudly from it, but Isak continues to laugh, playing horribly with quick hands.

 

“Stop, Stop, Stop.” Even laughs reaching for Isak’s hands so he can get him to stop playing.

 

Isak moves back, playing louder. Loud giggles fall from his lips and jumbled cords screech from the guitar. When he finally stops, Even claps his hands, “Wow.”

 

“Told you I was good.”

 

Even smiles, curling his fingers around the belt loop in Isak’s jeans, pulling him closer, “Let me see.”

 

Isak staggers forward until he’s standing in the empty space between Even’s knees, until the guitar is in front of Even’s face. He makes the mistake of looking down because Even’s eyes are there to meet him. Wide blue eyes crinkled by his smile.

 

Isak breath catches, and this definitely isn’t how Isak imagined his morning would go. 

 

He had woken up to thunder and rain shadows crawling down Jonas’s shoulder. The apartment was cold, and when Isak walked out to find Even seated on his sofa, an actual shiver pressed down his spine. He’d been so used to finding Even gone before he’sd woken up that when he sees he stayed, Isak isn’t ready for it.

 

But he could retreat back into his room, because Even already whispered a “Good morning” to him while Isak quickly locked himself in the bathroom. It’s while he’s staring at himself in the mirror, that he weighs his only option: could he wait out in the shower until Even left?

 

He tells himself his plan collapses because he finds the cabinet empty with towels, not because there’s a chance Jonas will wake up, and he and Even will be left alone. He can see it now: Jonas and Even seated around the small table laughing, talking about some band or an upcoming concert or worse, about  _ Isak _ . 

 

So Isak forces himself out, last night's wrinkled clothes still on, and chlorine still streaking his skin, and remnants of champagne still sticking to the back of his thighs. 

 

And even though, Even tells him it’s the rain that made him stay, he knows Even’s lying when he pulls Jonas’s old dusty guitar off the wall and pushes it into Isak’s hands.

 

So, here he is, playing Jonas’s guitar with Even, with Jonas asleep in the room next to them. 

 

“Put your index finger on the third string at the second fret.” Even tells him, his hands grasping around Isak’s fingers, directing him as he speaks,” and your middle finger on the first string at the second fret, and then, your third finger on the second string at the third fret.”

 

Isak lets Even move his hands until it’s just his on the instrument.

 

“Play that.”

 

Curling his fingers around the neck, he presses down until the strings dig into the pads of his fingers. With his second hand, he strums over the soundhole. The instrument hums, and a rough sound that’s more metallic thumping than anything plays--it’s still sound better than anything he’s ever played before. 

 

Even looks down, before he’s moving Isak’s fingers lightly. Isak tries again, but the sound still isn’t right.

 

“Is it me?” Isak says.

 

He takes a step, so the guitar’s closer to Even. They’re so close that Isak’s knees are resting on Even’s thighs. However the angle’s difficult for Even, so his fingers bend awkwardly, when he tries to play the chord. When Even’s own playing doesn’t come out right, he speaks,“I think it needs to be tuned.”

 

When he takes ahold of the neck, Isak thinks it’s to pull it into his own lap, but instead Even uses it, and a second hand on Isak’s hip, to get him to turn around. Pulling the guitar toward him, Isak folds himself until he’s sitting on Even’s lap. Despite his own heart rapidly thumping, Even camly cups his hand under the guitar. Another one comes over his shoulder until Even’s chest is pressed against his back. 

 

He pears over Isak’s shoulder to twist the metal tuners. He adjusts the strings, each time testing the cord until it sounds better.

 

“There.” Even finally says.

 

He moves only slightly, just so he can see the headstock better. He doesn’t make any effort to get Isak off him. Instead, he captures Isak’s hand so they can both rest their fingers on the fret. With his hand over Isak, he directs him back onto the correct frets. 

 

“Strum.” Even tells him.

 

With shaky hands, Isak drags his nails over the strings. It no longer sounds rusty, it sounds like an actual chord.

 

“That’s the D-chord.”

 

Isak nods strumming again, pressing his fingers harder against the strings, so the sound’s a lot cleaner.

 

“Good.” Even nods, “Now, move your first finger to the second string at the first fret, your middle finger on the fourth string at the second fret, and your third finger on the fifth string at the third fret.”

 

Isak’s fingers strain when he moves them. The line indentions fit nicely over the new chord position, but they sting slightly greater this time, “Like this?”

 

Even’s eyes glance over his fingers. His tongue pokes out at the corner of his mouth when he moves Isak’s pinky until it’s resting over the correct placement. When he’s fixed it, he nods, letting Isak play the chord.

 

“What chord is this?”

 

Even answers,“G.” 

 

Then, his finger are back on Isak’s, “And this is A.”

 

It’s a simple position, but all his fingers cram into the second fret. Isak plays it again, feeling the strings buzz under his fingertips. He tries to shift back to the D chord, and then the G, but his fingers awkwardly sprawl over the frets.

 

He gives the chord a few more strums before he drops the position.

 

“How can you do this for so long?” Isak sighs, running his fingertips together in an attempt to ease the deep strong impressions in them.

 

“You’ll grow callouses after a while.” Even shrugs, “See.”

 

He hold his hand up, showing Isak the small pads of extra skin passing his fingertips.

 

Isak takes his hand running his fingers over the hardened skin. Despite that, his skin’s soft under Isak’s fingers, and it takes everything in Isak not to thread their fingers together. He quickly lets them go when he realizes he’s probably been holding onto them for too long.

 

“Mahdi and I saw this one band, and they guy played so hard his fingers bleed.” Even tells him, fingers sliding down the neck.

 

“It was gross, there was blood all over his guitar.” He continues, “Although, it was kind of impressive how he played the rest of his set like that, though.” Even admits.

 

Even sits him, pressing his chest back on Isak’s so he can play. The instrument vibrates against Isak, and he watches Even’s fingers dance down the strings.

 

Between the sound pounding of the rain on their windows, and Even’s soft melody, Isak feels lost in the moment.

 

He finds himself out of it when the bedroom door opens and Jonas’s eyes fall on them. Something that Isak doesn’t want to admit feels like guilt swirls around his stomach, and it’s enough to make him quickly jump off of Even. 

 

“Sorry, did we wake you?” Isak quickly apologizes.

 

Jonas shakes the frown off his face, and clears his throat, “No. It was the storm.”

 

He heads straight to the corner of the kitchen the coffee maker sits in. With his back to them, he pulls open the top to pour coffee grinds in. Isak uses the opportunity to put more distance between he and Even.

 

The coffee maker clicks alive, and instantly begins to churn and spit coffee into the pot. While it’s brewing, Jonas walks back over, taking a seat in the chair in front of Even. His eyes immediately fall on the guitar Isak still has strapped on.

 

“What’s going on here?” He smiles lightly, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

 

His eyes are on Isak, but it’s Even that answers, “Isak’s going to replace me in the band.”

 

Jonas laughs, rubbing at eyes, still battling with sleep, “It wouldn’t be hard.”

 

It’s meant to be a joke, but Isak has known Jonas long enough to recognize the underlying sourness of his words. It makes his guilt rise up again.

 

“Hey!” Even laughs it out, “What’s that suppose to be mean?”

 

“Do you know how many guitar players there are out there?”Jonas says, “it’s like everyone can play the guitar, but drums” Jonas nods, “that takes individuality.”

 

“What?” Even shouts, “The drums are the easiest instrument to play!”

 

Isak watches Jonas roll his eyes at Even’s remark before he says, “Then why are there far more guitar players than there are drummers?”

 

The argument builds when Even throws his hands up and yells back,“Because it’s the best instrument to learn!”   
  


Before he can finish Jonas is shaking his head, “No, drums are better!”

 

Even opens his mouth to argue back when Jonas cuts him off, “Isak, what do you think: the guitar or the drums?”

 

Both of their eyes fall on him, waiting for a response. That’s when Isak realizes it’s not just about their instruments--it’s about them. He looks between them, Jonas, drums or Even, guitar.

 

Swallowing the lump in his throat he answers, “Piano.” He pulls the guitar off him before he goes on,“that’s the best instrument.”

 

Even and Jonas both sigh, clearly unhappy with his answer, but luckily they accept it. Their eyes are still matching one another when the coffee maker shrieks in the background, breaking their eye contact. Isak’s never been more grateful to hear that high pitched shrill than he is right now.

 

They shuffle into the kitchen, clinking half full mugs on the table in silence. It’s not like he hasn’t been in this position before--Jonas on one side and Even on the other, but sitting in between them at the dinner table feels tense. It’s like their clothes have some magical effect that stretches tension over them until Isak can feel it tingle under his fingertips.

 

And that thought is enough to make Isak flush red because at the back of his mind, he knows the only way the three of them seem to work is when they don’t have anything on.

 

Suddenly, Even’s phone lights up, vibrations come loudly from his pocket. When he pulls it out his eyes widen, “It’s Trevor.”

 

Jonas’s head jolts, “Pick it up!”

 

Even brings the phone to his ear, answering with a nervous, “Hi, Trevor, this is Even.”

 

A smile spreads across his face and he’s nodding his head with a “No, that’s great! What time do you want us?”

 

The voice on the other ends responds, but the voice is muffled so he can’t make it out. Luckily, Even’s rushing off the phone with a “Thank you so much, we’ll be there.”

 

When the call ends, Jonas doesn’t wait for him to set it down before he’s yelling, “What did he want?”

 

Even smiles, “He got us studio time!”

 

Jonas’s face splits into a smile, and he jumps up from his seat, “Are you serious?”

 

Even does the same, “He wants us in today!”

 

At that, whatever tension Isak felt pull between them gets lost when Jonas throws his arms around Even’s shoulders, “fuck, that’s great!”

 

They both laugh when their hug ends. 

 

“Congratulations.” Isak speaks up, moving to hug Jonas too. 

 

Except, Jonas tightens their hug when he presses onto Isak’s shoulders, bringing them close enough that Isak can feel his heart racing in his chest. Then Jonas pulls back just enough so their faces aligned

 

“Thanks” Jonas smiles right before he kisses him, so soft and simple that Isak’s breath catches, but long enough that it’ll make Even feel uncomfortable standing there beside them.

 

He turns to congratulate Even and quickly wonders if Even’s going to kiss him too-- a part of hopes he will. But Isak quickly pushes that thought back when another one surfaces: is that normal, even for them. And if if Even kisses him, should Isak kiss him back, and would Jonas even be okay with that. 

 

It’s a lot to process, especially since he only has fifteen seconds to spend thinking about it before Even’s in front of him. Luckily, Even settles all those questions for him when pushes his arms around Isak with just enough space between them that Even’s mouth hovers over him. They don’t kiss, but Even holds onto him for just a second longer than necessary.

 

It makes Isak feel almost trapped under him, like they’re both waiting for the other to do something, knowing neither of them will.

 

“Next time, you’ll have to come with us.” Jonas speaks out, making Isak jump out of Even’s grasp.

 

Just when he’s about to ask why he can’t come this time, Even asks for him.“He’s not coming with us today?”

 

Jonas’s eyes don’t leave Isak when he answers, “He’s got a shift today.”

 

Isak’s vaguely remembers something about an early afternoon shift he has marked on his calendar for today, but that seems to place second to this.

 

“I could call in.” Isak offers before he can stop himself from saying it. 

 

He almost regrets it, when he sees the corner of Even’s mouth twitch into a smile. It looks like Even’s about to re-invite him when Jonas cuts him off.

 

“No, it’s alright.” Jonas shrugs, “You probably won’t miss anything, just come to our next one.”

 

Isak tries to keep his disappointment hidden, so he nods his head instead. Still, he sinks into the seat left between them in defeat. He hears Even pull the chair out to join him when Jonas stops him.

 

“We have to go.” Jonas says, like it’s a reminder, “We have to go get the band and let them know, and we have to get all out stuff from your place.”

 

“Jonas, we’re not scheduled in until 12.”

 

“We can’t be late.”

 

Even finally gives in, pushing his chair back under the table with a huff. He doesn’t get a chance to say goodbye to Isak because Jonas is rushing him out, throwing a “See you later” over his shoulder and shutting the door before Even can add anything else.

 

The door’s slam echos throughout the rooms, loud enough that it feels like it’s mocking Isak being left being with their half empty mugs and lukewarm coffee sitting in his own. The atmosphere’s completely changed when he’s alone. He’s grown so used to having Jonas and Even there that their absence makes him feel off.

 

He tries to remind himself that Jonas doesn’t need him tagging along to everything. Especially their first, serious recording time, and Even doesn’t need him there to add even more complication than he’s already facing.

 

So, Isak doesn’t let himself feel bad even when he doesn’t hear anything from either of them all morning. It’s not until Even texts him two hours later that he finally feels okay. He even laughs when he pulls up the picture to find it’s of Mahdi somehow managing to get himself trapped into the recording room. Then when Jonas sends a few quickly typed out texts with too many emojis and blurry pictures of the studio attached them, he’s starting to get over it.

 

That doesn’t mean that knowing they’re all together while he’s stuck at work getting snapshots of what’s going on make him envy them any less. 

 

Still, it’s all he gets until he gets home. Jonas looks up from where he’s beating on his drums as soon as Isak walks through the door. He notices the old guitar isn’t in sight, not even in the place it’s been hanging for months.

 

“You okay?” Jonas immediately asks when he notices Isak’s silently kicking off his shoes.

 

“Yea.” Isak quickly answers, “How was it?”

 

Jonas voice falters like he knows Isak’s lying, but Isak shakes his head so Jonas doesn’t ask again.

 

“You should have been there, Isak.” Jonas begins before he immediately dives into stories about the day.

 

They stay up till midnight when Jonas runs out of ridiculous things that happened. It’s not until Isak’s almost asleep that he realizes not one of them involves Even.

 

***

 

He’s still thinking about it the next when he’s trying to step around puddles on his way to work. He blames Jonas’s behavior on everything he’s dealing with because it’s a lot easier than the alternative.

 

Isak’s almost through the first half of his shift when he sees Jonas walk through the door. It’s been raining all day, so he’s got a beanie pulled over his hair, but the rain pelted jacket wrapped around his shoulders let's Isak know Jonas isn’t paying too much attention to it.

 

“You’re off for break, right?” Jonas immediately asks him when he gets to the counter.

 

Isak looks at the clock, Jonas is right on it. They take a table in the back, away from the commotion of the front end.

 

“Jonas?” Isak says when his friend won’t.

 

A few drops of rain fall from Jonas’s hood and onto his hands. He doesn’t say anything, but he does slide his phone across the table for Isak to see. When his eyes meet the screen, the bright notification catches him.

 

“Your mom called?”

 

Isak’s relieved that this is what has Jonas upset until he sees his friend’s face.

 

Jonas nods his head, “I think Thea told her about our contract.”

 

“And you didn’t answer?”

 

Jonas nods again.

 

“Jonas.” Isak repeats, this time frustration is building in his voice.

 

“She could be calling to apologize.” Isak says, earning him a quick look from Jonas. They both know she’s never do that. 

 

“It’s just a phone call what’s the worse that can happen?”

 

“You were there last time we talked. Do you not remember how mad she was?” is all Jonas says. 

 

It’s all he has to say because Isak couldn’t forget that night even if he tried. And he knows Jonas has. 

 

A few moments of silence slip by before Isak pushes Jonas’s phone back in front of him.

 

“Call her back.” He says with no room for argument.

 

Jonas glances at the phone. So Isak pushes it closer. When Jonas still refuses to touch it, Isak does the only thing he knows that will make him. He presses the small phone icon next to his mom’s name and presses the phone to Jonas’s ear. Jonas scrambles with the phone, trying to get his thumbs to end the call, but before he can, a voice comes from the other side. 

 

All Isak can capture from the conversation before Jonas is disappearing down the hallway is the small “Hi” he answers the phone with.

 

It’s a slow twelve minutes before Jonas comes back.

 

“How did it go?”Isak asks before Jonas can even take his seat.

 

Jonas sighs, “She wants to see me.”

 

“Is that a good thing or a band thing?”

 

“Good.” Jonas says, but even he sounds unsure.

 

Isak nods, a small smile spread across his face, “See. Everything's fine.”

 

Jonas sighs again, his shoulders sagging when he does, “Will you come with me?”

 

Isak almost says yes, but he stops himself before the word blurts out. Instead, he clears his throat, “Don’t you think it should be between you and them?”

 

When Jonas laughs, Isak feels more confused than he ever has, “Isak, everything I do involves you now. Why wouldn’t this?”

 

Isak can feel the lump he has to swallow at the base of his throat just so he can breathe again. It doesn’t help that Jonas is waiting for him to respond with wide, rain wet eyes.

 

“You don’t think it would be weird?”

 

Isak immediately regrets saying it because Jonas pulls back in his seat when he does, “I should probably go alone, then, anyway.”

 

Isak nods keeping his face trained on his lap. 

 

“Do you think I should tell them that you got in a bar fight in the bathroom at contest we lost at?” Jonas jokes trying to keep the tension between them from gradually increasing like it has been over the past few days.

 

Isak laughs,“At Least lie and say you guys won.”

 

Jonas smile widen as he tries to fight back his laughter with an eyeroll.

 

“The fight or the competition?” Jonas snorts.

 

This time it’s Isak that rolls his eyes, “My brake’s over.”

 

He hops out of his chair, ready to dramatically stomp away when he’s pulled back by Jonas’s fingers twisting around his wrist. They meet chest to chest, Jonas folding his arms around Isak’s shoulder. It’s just a hug, nothing more, but nothing less. Warm and firm, despite Jonas’s damp clothing.

 

“Alright.” Isak laughs, pushing lightly on Jonas’s shoulders.

 

“I’ll see you after, right?”

 

Isak nods, “text me if anything happens.”

 

He wishes Jonas good luck last time before he’s making his way back into the rain, his hands buried in his pockets

 

***

 

That night Isak Jonas doesn’t text him at all, so he figures things must be going well. Then when Thea’s knocking on their door with a very drunk, but laughing Jonas stumbling next to her, he knows it did.

 

“I’ve got him.” Isak laughs taking Jonas’s arm so he can sling it over his shoulder.

 

Thea smiles, handing over Jonas to him, “You’ve always have, haven’t you?”

 

Her voice is soft like she’s in awe, but it still confuses Isak when she says it. He wants to ask what she means, but Jonas is tripping over his own feet, so he doesn’t get the chance.

 

However, his answer comes the next morning when he’s woken up  to a series of loud buzzes vibrating his phone halfway across his nightstand. He tries to ignore it until Jonas comes in, wrapped in his comforter, collapsing on Isak’s bed as soon as his knees meet the mattress.

 

“Vilde can’t be serious.” Jonas yawns, burying his face into his own blanket.

 

“That’s who’s texting?”

 

“They’re planning Eva’s birthday or something.”Jonas sighs.

 

“At 9 in the morning?”

 

“I know.” 

 

Jonas is still scrolling through the texts with his eyes half-closed, alcohol still perfuming his skin, when Isak notices the twenty-three unread messages under “Eva’s Surprise Party” flashing on his own screen.

 

“Are you replying to this?”Isak asks, his thumb hovering over the notification.

 

“Yea.” Jonas shrugs,” And Vilde wants to know if you’re going to go so text back so she’ll stop asking me.”

 

Isak makes a frustrated grunt before he types his answer, “We’ll be there what time?”

 

Several messages flood in afterwards, but Isak stops replying when he realizes Jonas is staring up at his ceiling in silence. 

 

“Are you alright?” He asks him, before his foot knocks at Jonas’s ankle.

 

“Yea, it’s just so fucking early.” Jonas laughs, trying to play it off.

 

“So” Isak starts, “How did it go yesterday?”

 

Jonas shrugs, folding his arms behind his head “Good. We talked, and I think they’re actually warming up to the idea about me being in a band.”

 

“That’s good.”

 

“Yea.” Jonas nods, “Oh, and Thea might come to show our show Saturday.”

 

At the mention of her name, Isak immediately remembers what she told him last night. He really wants to ask Jonas about it, but instead he says,“Really? What about your parents?”

 

Jonas laughs, “I think it’s too soon. They’re just getting over me dropping out, so.”

 

Isak cracks a smile, ignoring the vibrations still shaking his phone.

 

“You know my sister asked if we were a thing, again?” Jonas says, and Isak forces himself to keep staring up.

 

He can feel Jonas watching him, waiting for his reaction. Except, Isak doesn’t give him one. He keeps his lips flatlined and his eyes stuck in front of him. He’s trying to keep calm by tracing the lines in the wall when Jonas speaks again, “Don’t you want to know what I told her, Isak?”

 

Isak’s face slowly falls, meeting Jonas’s eyes when he finally speaks, “You told her about the band stuff?”

 

Jonas shakes his head.

 

“Jonas” Isak begins to say.

 

“I told her we are” Jonas says quietly, “a thing.”

 

“A  _ fake  _ thing though, right?”

 

Jonas shakes his head again, and Isak is stunned, and he feels something thick in his throat. It’s gone tight and dry that he can’t think of a thing to say, so he laughs instead. Loud and high so it echos throughout their place.

 

“Why are you laughing?”

 

Isak doesn’t answer, just throws his head back with another rumble of laughter.

 

“Isak.” Jonas says so seriously that Isak’s laughter catches in his throat.

 

“You’ve never thought about it?”

 

Jonas asks, and Isak doesn’t know how to answer. Because there was a time in highschool when he did, all the time. 

 

Seventeen year old Isak would probably collapse if he knew one day Jonas would be sitting in front of him offering him more than just sex and everything else they’ve been doing. 

 

“I don’t know, Jonas.”

 

His face feels hot when Jonas turns over to lay on his side, so close to Isak that if he moved an inch he’d be pressed against him.

 

“I do.” Jonas admits, “A lot, lately.”

 

Isak nods, because it’s all he can do.

 

He hears Jonas sigh, long and loud before the bed shifts from Jonas’s weight coming off of it, “I made it weird, didn’t it?   
  


“No.” Isak lies reaching forward to grab Jonas’s hand.

 

He pulls him back onto the bed, keeping just enough space between them, so it won’t give Jonas any answers. 

 

They’re both lying on their back in silence.

 

“Is it” Jonas begins, but stops like he’s abandoning his thought, “Does it have something to do with Even? Yesterday morning-” Jonas continues, but doesn’t get to finish because Isak stops him.

 

“It’s not about Even.” Isak lies, “It’s about you.”

 

Jonas’s face falls, “Oh.”

 

“And me.” Isak’s quick to add, “And what this might do to us.”

 

“You don’t think we’re past that?” Jonas says, laughing lightly to keep the truth of his words from weighing too heavily on them.

 

It doesn’t work because Isak can feel it on him like a heavy burden. He thinks his chest might crush under the weight of it all.

 

“Why?” Isak asks, “Why now?”

 

Jonas’s eyebrows dip together when he frowns, “You’ve been with me through all of this.”

 

“That’s what friends do, Jonas.”

 

“Friends don’t do  _ this _ , Isak. And I don’t wanna be just your friend.”

 

The honesty makes Isak still, like he can feel his heart fall down his chest. They’re silent for a moment, both thinking. Isak’s wondering a thousand thoughts that all start with  _ what if _ . 

 

Jonas clears his throat to get Isak’s attention, “Can you at least say something?” Jonas continues, a little softer he adds, “Please.”

 

There’s at least ten different things Isak’s ready to say, but none of them come out. Instead it’s a light,“Ask me later” that does.

 

“Alright.” Jonas smiles, “Can we do something for now though?”

 

“What?”

 

“Can we stop Including Even?”

 

This is it, Isak thinks. This is Jonas drawing the line. Something they should have done a long time ago. It’s like they did the whole thing backwards. 

But there’s no time to draw lines and set boundaries when you’re running though soundchecks and driving to gigs. So it’s so blurred now.

 

“Isak” Jonas looks at him.

 

His eyebrows raise when their eyes meet. Something feels close, within reach, and Isak can’t put his finger on what it is or how they got there, but he’s terrified now.

 

“Okay.” He breathes.

 

“Is that okay with you?” Jonas asks.

 

He shakes his head, even though a part of him doesn’t want to, “Yes.”

 

This is what I want, Isak has to remind himself. Jonas smiles, putting a hand on his face. He kisses him in a way that feels different.

It’s like their first  _ real  _ kiss, but it isn’t. 

Maybe it’s curiosity, or maybe it’s something stronger than that. Residual teenage love that Isak thought was gone. Whatever it is, the feeling overwhelms him. 

 

***

 

The party comes friday, and by then nothing’s really changed. Sometimes Jonas will kiss him quick while Isak’s scrapping slightly burnt eggs of the pan or put a hand on his hip when he’s standing close enough. Other than that they’re still the same Jonas and Isak. Just Isak and Jonas, Isak has to remind himself.

 

Although, it’d be a lot easier to remember if he didn’t have to ignore the three texts Even has sent him.

 

It’s been almost four days and the only communication he’s had with Even is in the “Eva’s Surprise Birthday Party” group chat, which hasn’t let his phone sit silently for more than ten minutes all week. Even then, he’s not talking directly to Even. He’s not really responding at all, aside from a couple texts promising to help be there to set up decorations.

 

So, when Friday finally comes, he’s nothing, but nerves arriving at Noora’s place.

 

Eskild opens the door, quickly pulling them inside. They're instantly directed into the crowded living room with half-finished birthday decorations. Right away Isak notices Even helping Sana hang gold letter balloons, spelling out "Happy Birthday."

He tears his eyes away just as Even hangs the Y, and his shirt rides up just a little.

 

“Isak, Jonas!”Vilde immediately greets them, “You came!”

 

She’s surrounded by red balloons and there’s a streak of pink icing smeared on her cheek. 

 

“We’re here to help.” Jonas laughs.

 

“Great!” Vilde smiles.

 

A loud crashing comes from inside the kitchen, followed by Eskild’s loud shriek. Everyone stills to turn in its direction.

 

“Just hang these.” Vilde quickly tells them, shoving red streamers into their hands before she rushes into the kitchen.

 

Jonas looks at him before peering down at the decoration in his hands, "Ready?"

 

Isak and Jonas spend almost an hour hanging red streamers down the hallway. It probably would have taken them half the time if they weren't also trying to tear each others' down as quickly as they put them up. Isak’s lucky Vilde has everyone busy decorating that he doesn’t get chance to even see Even, let alone talk to him.

 

When everything’s set up, the apartment is flooding in balloons and glitter.  

 

“They’re on their way back!” Chris yells.

 

Their movements are quick after that as they try to clean the last bits up. When the lights shut off, everyone ducks behind furniture and into the corners of the room.

 

It doesn’t take long before the door slowly pulled open. In one collective yell, the lights flicker on and everyone's screaming a loud “Surprise!”

 

Someone turns on music so it begins to feel like a proper party when the drinks come out. People didn’t bring gifts, but they brought alcohol to fill their kitchen table.

When a karaoke machine suddenly appears in the middle of their living, it doesn’t even surprise Isak. He’s standing next to Jonas, watching Eskild belt out, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He ends up shirtless and on Eva’s lap when he’s finished, but Isak’s never seen anyone perform better. That’s until Eskild shoves the mic in Even’s hands.

Even’s drunk, but he’s such a natural performer and Isak can’t take it. Especially when he’s drunkenly screaming all the words to “Teenage Dream” with his eyes locked on Isak.

He tries to look way, shifting closer to Jonas so he’s not in his direct eye sight, but it doesn’t work. During the last chorus, everyone is shouting along with him, jumping in the air as they sing.

Isak claps the loudest when he’s done, but no one notices. He’s already so drunk, but it feels like something has been fixed between them now.

It makes him cling to Jonas even more because this is usually how it starts. It’s when Vilde pulls Jonas off to help her with the cake that Even finally comes up to him.

 

“Hey.” Even says, his voice deep from the singing and the alcohol.

 

Isak smiles, eyes darting around the room for Jonas.

 

“What’d you think?” Even slurs, “Still think you could replace me?”

 

Isak laughs because he’s ignored Even for the entire week, and Even’s still trying, like he doesn’t already know Isak’s been deleting his texts.

 

“I don’t think anyone could replace that.”

 

Even smiles, clumsily. He’s still staring at Isak when “Happy Birthday” begins to be sang. Vilde slowly walks through the crowd, the cake illuminating in her hands. 

 

Jonas gives Isak a funny looks when he’s back with Isak and Even’s still standing there. He doesn’t say anything, but he does wrap a hand around Isak’s shoulders as he joins in on the singing. 

 

Even disappears by the time the song ends, but Isak knows he’s still close by.

 

Eva laughs, blowing the candles out fast, so her face doesn’t end up in the cake, but she’s not quick enough because her chin catches onto an edge and icing smears across her skin.

 

Someone’s turned off the lights right afterwards, and it seems to get people to dance, like actually dance. He and Jonas are in a crowd of people jumping to music loud enough to shake the walls. 

 

Jonas is pressed close against him, his shirt clinging to his wet skin. They’re both enjoying the night when the music gets louder and more people flood into the living room. It was already a tight squeeze, so the sudden flux of more bodies push against them. Isak gets shoved forward, until he’s on the outskirts of the crowd, looking for Jonas.

 

He taller than half the people dancing, but he still can’t find him. He think it may be Jonas grabbing his hand pulling him down the hallway, but when they’re finally in better lighting, he realizes it’s not.

 

“Even?” Isak says, but he’s already recognized Even’s blond hair and knobby shoulders.

 

Even doesn’t respond, just holds onto Isak’s wrist and walks them further down the hall.

 

“Even.” Isak repeats digging his heels into the hallway floorboards.

 

It may make him stumble forward, but it finally gets Even to turn around.

 

“I need to talk to you.” Even tells him.

 

“Here? Away from everyone?”

 

Even nods. When he watches Isak look back towards the party, he opens the bathroom door, “Please?”

 

Isak holds his breath when he walks in. The music softens when Even closes the door.

 

“Sonja and I broke up.” Even blurts out before Isak can ask what he wants.

 

“Are you alright?” Isak asks.

 

Even laughs taking a step forward, “Never been better.”

 

“Congratulations?”Isak says, unsure if it’s the right thing to say.

 

Even smiles, taking another step forward. He’s closer to Isak, but Isak choses not to step back. Instead he stays still, letting Even lean over him,“You know why I did it though, right?”

 

Isak shakes his head, but he knows what’s coming.

 

“I did it for you.” Even says, honest and simple like he’s talking about the weather and not Isak.

 

“But” Isak begins to say, letting the words die in his throat when Even brings his hand on the side of Isak’s neck, and leans in.

 

The silence between them doesn’t sound quiet at all when Isak can only hear his own heartbeat in his ears. It takes him a moment too long to realize he’s been staring at Even’s mouth. Even leans in, finally, to brush their lips together.

Isak hadn’t let himself feel this before. He denied himself the right to. In this moment, with Even’s hands in his hair, he has to admit to himself that, deep down, it’s something that he’s wanted.

 

All of the feelings, all the yearning that he’s tried to tell himself isn’t there, finally catches up to him. It’s so much,  _ so much _ that he feels like he’s drowning in it.

 

He’s still kissing Even when the door crashes open.

 

“Shit, sorry.” Isak hears, before “Isak? Even?”

 

Isak jumps away from Even, panting when he looks at the door frame.

 

It’s Eva, standing there with her mouth open, and the bottle of champagne broken by her feet. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading


	13. Hourglass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: Hourglass by Catfish and the bottlemen  
> (ps this is my favorite song by them, give it a listen)  
> (Also the song Even sings is Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer)

“Isak! Even!”

 

Eva’s voice comes over the faint sound of music, following them down the hallway as they quickly cut their way through the kitchen. Isak refuses to look behind them as Even pulls them out through the back exit.

 

When they’re thrown into the night air, the sky falls around them. It’s a calm contrast compared to the party they’re stepping out of. The noise seems to end completely when the door slams shut. But they’re loud, so loud. With each stair case they stumble down, the rusty fire escape screams and groans under their feet.

 

The pavement they’re running over smacks underneath them, filling the silence so they don’t have to. It echos down the street so loudly, Isak thinks Jonas might hear it. It’s not until they’re at the end of the block that Isak digs his heels into the concrete trying to remind himself to breathe.

 

He’s still holding onto Even’s hand like it’s the only thing keeping him from running back--a part of him thinks it is. Because when Isak looks back at the building, the only thing more terrifying about Jonas being there is knowing Even won’t be.

 

So, when Isak tightens his grip between Even’s knuckles, it’s like he knows, like they both know, there’s no turning back now. Even’s eyes flash under the light of the street lamp, glossy and wide like he’s answering back.

 

They run, and run, down alleys and across empty streets. It’s exhilarating.

 

Isak doesn’t know where Even’s leading them, but he doesn’t think it matters. As long as their fingers are still intertwined, Isak would follow him anywhere.

 

It doesn’t take long for Isak to realize that anywhere eventually becomes Even’s apartment. Even’s hands are shaking when he slides the key into the lock, letting Isak move in first.

 

Isak’s still trying to steady his breathing when he hears the door shut behind them. He goes to strip off his jacket when Even stops him, “Don’t take it off, we’re not staying here.”

 

He’s still holding onto the sides of it when Even quickly disappears down the hallway. He’s making quite a bit noise that when Isak hears his footsteps reaching back towards him he doesn’t know what to expect. It’s definitely not Even stuffed with comforters, and clinging onto pillows, but that’s what he gets.

 

“C’mon.” Even smiles.

 

Isak doesn’t know how he can see over the mountain of bedding he has piled up in his hands, but somehow he manages to make his way back to the entrance.

 

He kicks the door open, dropping a pillow when it pushes open. Isak catches it before it can hit the ground, gripping onto the casing before he brings it up to his chest.

 

“Nice catch” is all Even whispers before he’s back to leading them up the building’s stairway.

 

It takes four flights of stairs before Isak realizes where they’re going. Then, Even’s pushing past the last door with the bright “Exit” sign stamped across it.

 

The night’s warm, and the sky’s calm. There’s too much light so the stars have to force their way through. Even piles the blankets in the middle of the roof. There’s not a lot that distances them from the rough concrete underneath them, but it’s the best makeshift bed Isak’s ever been in.

 

He tucks himself underneath Even’s arms, burying his face into his shoulder.

 

“She’s gonna tell Jonas, isn't she?” Isak finally mumbles.

 

A part of him hopes Eva will, just so he doesn’t have to see the look on Jonas’s face when he find out.

 

Even takes a long sigh before answering, “I don’t think so. And everyone's too drunk to notice we’re gone anyway.”

 

“What about you, are you drunk right now?”

 

Even laughs, clutching onto his shoulder to bring him closer, “A little.” he admits, “but I’ll be sober in the morning, and I’ll still want this.”

 

Even’s words fall on his lips, and Isak tilts his chin to catch them.

 

“Don’t think about that,” Even says, “Just lie here with me, underneath the stars, together.”

 

Isak snorts twisting his back so he can lie on it, pressed against Even.

 

“What was that?” Even laughs.

 

“We left to be here, and you just want to look at the stars.”

 

Even smiles lazily turning his head onto his cheek so he can look at Isak. They look at each other, eyes raking in a very non-subtle way, just drinking in the sight of each other.

 

“Yea.” Even says quickly, “why not?”

 

Isak rolls his eyes, moving closer so Even can slip his hand underneath his neck, until it’s curled around him, and threading through his hair.

 

“It’s cliche, like really shitty rom-com level cliche.”

 

“What’s wrong with that?” Even’s laughs, pushing back the small curls, tucking them behind Isak’s ear. His touches are so light, it’s like the midnight winds are wrapping around him instead.

 

“Nothing,” Isak laughs, eyes rolling, “But don’t sing that fucking sixpence song or there will be.”

 

A smile crosses Even’s mouth, before he belts out loudly the exact song Isak doesn’t want to hear:“Kiss me beneath the milky twilight, lead me out of the moonlit floor!”

 

“No, stop!” Isak can’t stop the giggles, rolling quickly onto his side, so he can lean over Even and clamp a hand over his mouth.

 

Even smiles, even with Isak’s palm pressed to his lips, he continues to sing.

 

“Are you going to stop?” Isak asks, fingers gently digging into Even’s cheek, muffling his words.

 

Even nods, a wide smile appearing across his mouth when Isak moves his hand.

 

“It’s a good song, Isak.” Even jokes.

 

“Never sing that again.”

 

Isak’s still sprawled over Even, so he rests his chin on Even’s chest, moving with the beat of it. He can feel it speed up when Even lays his hand at the base of his spine, bringing them even closer, until Isak’s lying nearly on top of him. They’re tangled  in the sheets watching the sky above them.

 

Isak sinks into his touch, welcoming the lazy pattern Even’s drawing on his skin. He like this a lot more than he should. Even’s hands, the stars, even that ridiculous sixpence song that in any other situation would make him cringe.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Even voice comes through, like it’s bringing him back to him.

 

“Jonas.” Isak says before he can stop himself, the words finding their own way out.

 

Isak doesn’t miss the way Even shifts and stills his thumbs from caressing the small strip of skin above his jeans.

 

“What about him?” Even asks, doing his best to sound uninterested. His voice is sharp and cold, pricking Isak’s skins skin with every word he lets out.

 

Isak sighs, letting all his weight collapse on Even’s chest, “He’s gonna hate me.”

 

“He’s going to hate me.” Even corrects him.

 

Isak smiles falters at the thought, and it only worsens as he grows on it; Jonas is going to hate them both.

 

“I don’t really care though.” Even admits, “I knew this would eventually happen.”

 

“What?”

 

“I knew from the moment I saw you.”

 

“So from that moment in your basement?” Isak smirks.

 

Even shakes his head, “I saw you at the very first concert you came to with Jonas. Even before he joined the band.”

 

“Serious?”

 

“It was at the abandoned swimming pool out in Eastwick on Halloween.”

 

Isak remembers it, but it seems so long ago that the memory is vague. It took an hour to get to the house. Even then, it wasn’t much of house, then it was just a frame of rotting wood. They showed up at midnight to a house full of drunken strangers in sloppy halloween costumes. Isak spent half the night gripping onto a flashlight in the backyard, and the other half gripping onto Jonas so he wouldn’t end up alone.

 

“Wow.” Isak finally manages to say.

 

“I saw you every time you came after that too.”

 

“You’re lying.” Isak laughs pushing at Even’s shoulder in disbelief.

 

“No.” Even tells him, pulling Isak back so he’s back on top of him, “Why do you think we asked if Jonas was with you at the audition?”

 

“You never said anything.” Isak says, staring up Even, “When you saw me at your shows, why didn’t you ever come up to me?”

 

“I was with Sonja and you were with Jonas.”

 

“All the times we’ve been together, I’ve always been with Jonas and you’ve always been with Sonja.” Isak reminds him.

 

Even’s mouth purses as he pouts. The lines in his forehead draw together like he’s debating if he should say something.

 

Finally, he sighs, “I didn’t think you’d be into me.” Even finally admits.

 

A small smile creeps on Isak’s face because it’s Even, and Isak can’t remember a time when he wasn’t into him.

 

“What?” Isak laughs this time, rolling onto his side, so he can meet Even face to face.

 

Their noses bump and Even cups his cheek, smiling as he says, “I didn’t think you were into it all. You looked like you hated being there.”

 

Isak remembers the first couple of concerts he went to. Most were in dark bars with sticky floors and too many people. Often times he left with sore ribs from sharp elbows in the crowd or beer spilled on his shirt. Even’s right, if it weren’t for Jonas, Isak would have hated being there.

 

“Jonas was the fan.”

 

Even laughs, “And you weren’t?”

 

When Isak shrugs, Even teasingly grips at his waist pushing him back onto the mattress so he can lay over him.

 

“You weren’t a fan, Isak?” Even grins, asking again.

 

“I thought the band was good.” Isak says when Even presses closer, the weight of him coming doing on his ribs, “But I always thought that they should of replaced the lead singer.”

 

“What?” Even gasps is faux-exasperation.

 

Isak giggles, pushing at Even’s shoulder in a failed attempt to get him off.

 

He can make out the edges of Even’s face in the dark, the glossy look of his eyes reflecting the moon. Even’s still watching him with a bit more intensity than Isak’s ready for, and it makes his face burn red.

 

He watches quietly when Even props himself onto his hands, using one to hold Isak’s face, a thumb landing in the corner of his mouth.

 

“So this is the end” Isak says, “of you and Sonja.”

 

“Sonja and I” Even starts, “We’ve always been together, but we stopped being together a long time ago.”

 

“For good?”

 

He watches Even’s eyes fall from his face, and he can feel the way his chest deflates when he lets out a long sigh, “that’s what I told you.” He says a little too quickly.

 

Even’s jaw twitches when he clenches it together, and speaks, “What about you and Jonas?”

 

Isak moves off of him in clear discomfort.

 

“It’s complicated” is all Isak says.

 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

 

“No.” Isak mumbles, busying himself with the strings of Even’s hoodie because it’s a lot easier to say that then the alternative.

 

The more Isak thinks about, he realizes there’s really no easy way to say “my fake boyfriend who’s actually my best friend doesn’t want to include you in our drunken, late night threesomes anymore because there may be something more between us even though we’ve been friends our entire life”. So instead he says, “My phone’s hasn’t been working right.”

 

Even’s eyebrow raises, because Isak’s lie is as believable as Even’s nod.

 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Isak yawns, reaching forward to curl his hand around Even’s neck.

 

He pulls Even down so their noises touch, and then their lips.

 

“Do you want me to sing some more?”

 

“No!” Isak laughs gripping the back of Even’s hair.

 

When Even begins to sing the last continuing lines of the song, Isak forces him down, silencing him with a kiss.

It’s three am and Even kisses him. He kisses him until it’s four am. They sleep until it’s six am.

***

A crack of lightning rips through the sky instantly waking Isak up to a sprinkle of rain.

 

Light drops fall from the clouds sticking to his skin, already matting his hair down onto his forehead. The sun’s only beginning to rise through a parting of grey clouds, but the city below them is already awake with noise.

 

“Even.” Isak quickly wakes him up.

 

Even forces his eyes open, blinking a few times when he sees Isak above him.

 

“It’s raining.”

 

Isak’s already tugging on the sheets they’re laying under, searching for protection. It’s not until rain drops down Even’s forehead that he finally moves.

 

Another thrash of thunder erupts, a quick strip of lighting quickly follows, making Isak pull the comforter tighter. He clings to it as they run towards the door. It’s then the rain hardens, violently thrashing down on them. He can hear Even laughing behind him as he struggles to tuck himself underneath the bedding, water already trailing down his face.

 

“Wait.” Even stops him from rushing inside.

 

Despite the storm, the sky’s glowing an intense red, streaks of yellow cutting through. They stay seated on the rusty railing until the sun rises and the sky fades from pink to blue. The rain soaking through the sheets, making their clothes stick to their skin.

 

They’re dripping as they walk back to Even’s, leaving small puddles of rainwater behind them. Hazy memories of the night before swirl in his head, and he does his best to stay calm las he stands in Even’s empty place.

 

He follows Even into the bathroom, already feeling the wet heavy weight of his clothing. Even laughs again when he looks at Isak dripping onto the tile.

 

“This is your fault. You had to watch the sunrise.” Isak huffs snatching a towel from the cupboard.

 

Even snorts, flicking his hair so small specks of water smack Isak’s skin.

 

“Asshole.” Isak tries not to laugh when he says it, toweling down his arms again.

 

Still laughing, Even turns on the shower, peeling his shirt off. When he notices Isak’s eyes widen at his action, he offers a small smile, “I’ll be out, and then you can go after.”

 

Isak looks away when he pulls the rest of his clothing off. It feels almost wrong to look even though Isak’s never felt that way before. He hears the shower door close, and can feel the humidity already thickening the air. Despite the rising heat, a shiver pulls through Isak when he tugs his own clothing off. If feels like his heart’s in his throat when he walks closer to the tub.

 

The glass door has already clouded with fog, so Isak can only make out the blur of skin through it. When he pulls open the door, he stands there with Even glancing at him with the smallest of smiles tugged on his lips.

 

“You’re letting all the cold air in” is all Even says, giving Isak a chance to move back and shut the door.

 

But Isak doesn’t.

 

Instead he takes a step in, digging his toes into the shower matt. Instantly Even moves backwards making space for him in the small tub.

 

The first thing he notices is how shitty the water pressure is, but the water’s warm as it falls off his shoulders. It colors his skin a warm red as he stands under it.

 

When the door clasps closed, it’s like they’re the only two people in the entire world. Even’s skin is glistening in sweat and water, but he smiles when he catches Isak’s eyes trailing up his chest.

 

Isak’s skin is slippery, but Even’s hand is firm from where it slides up his chest and settles on his shoulder. His eyes meet Isak’s, and a silent, “Is this okay” flashes across his face when he takes a step forward. Even gets his answer when Isak closes the gap and brushes his lips against Even’s.

 

Isak presses closer, bringing their chests together, letting the water run over them.

The calming cascade of water dripping down them but it’s Even thats run his tongue against Isak’s mouth. He takes the parted lip gasp Isak takes when Even hoists him up as an invitation to press further in. Immediately Isak’s thighs press into the wet skin of Even’s waist, crossing his ankles so he can bring Even closer. The tile wall against his back is cold, but the steam rising from the water is enough to keep him from shivering.

 

That only happens when Even presses a kiss right where his jaw meets his neck. Isak’s fist tangles in Even’s hair, and he pulls until Even lets out a low growl, pinching his skin between his teeth. Isak tips his head back, painfully letting his skull collide with the wall as Even traces the line of his collarbone with his tongue, wrapping his arms around Even, holding him tight as he finds his mouth again.

 

They water rains over them, but their mouths never disconnect. Isak only gasps into Even’s lips when his hands slide down to the base of his spine, and he presses himself forward so Isak can feel how hard he is.

 

Even’s still kissing him, slow and deep, licking the taste of him out of his mouth. It’s all they’re doing until Even grips his hip hard enough to bruise.

 

“Do you even know how perfect you are?” Even asks, his lips brushing against his ear.

 

Isak shakes his head, water falling from his skin, “Tell me.” He whispers.

 

Even smiles gently, “Where do I even begin?”

 

“Maybe here.” He says, moving one of his hands from Isak’s face to slide under his ass, fingers teasingly cupping the curve of it.

 

Isak gasps, laughing into Even’s neck.

 

“You’re so beautiful.” Even whispers.

 

His lips travel up the column of Isak’s neck until he can press a kiss right above his adam's apple, “I feel like I’ve waited my entire life for this” after another kiss further up his neck, he adds, “for you.”

 

‘Even.” Isak whispers because he knows what’s coming next, can already hear the words leaving his mouth.

 

“It’s always been you, Isak. Even when it was with him.” He continues, sliding his hands down until they’re in Isak’s. He interlocks their hands bringing them up and over Isak’s head, pressing them against the tile.

 

Even pulls back slightly, so he can meet Isak’s eyes. The water and the warmth and the closeness is so much.

 

“I want you.” Even holds onto him tighter, “All of you. Whatever you’re willing to give, I want it.”

 

Water drips down Isak’s face from where it’s trickling down the strands of Even’s hair when he places a kiss to his forehead then his cheeks, landing on the corner of his mouth.

 

“You already have me.” Isak finally speaks up.

 

The water’s beginning to run cold, driving shivers down Isak’s back.

 

“I don’t want just that.” Even lets his forehead press against Isak’s temple, “you have so much to offer, don’t you know that?”

 

Even drops his hands so he can hold his face instead. Isak takes the chance to kiss him, and Even kisses back just as fiercely like he’s trying to his words stuck on Isak’s skin.

 

“You can’t just say stuff like that.” Isak whispers against Even’s mouth.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because.” Isak starts, pushing at Even’s shoulders so he can be on his own feet. When he’s finally back on the ground, he continues, “Because you don’t really mean it.”

 

He moves around Even finally uncapping the bottle of shampoo lining the wall. He tries to ignore the strawberry scented bottle next to it.

 

“I do, though.” Even quickly tells him.

 

Isak doesn’t answer at first, letting the soap scrub through his scalp before he finally sighs, “You’re not. You just think you are because you’re too caught up in this.”

 

Isak steps under the faucet, deciding that for the few seconds he’s under it he can ignore Even. It almost works, the water’s warm enough, and the dripping in his ears is loud enough to silence off everything, but then Even places a hand on his side reminding him that he is here, with Isak.

 

“You’re right.” Even nods, taking a step forwards, “I am caught up in all of this.”

 

Isak swallows the trembles threatening to break his voice, and curtly says, “See.”

 

He goes to turn around, not wanting Even to see through the flat lined smile he’s forcing on his face. He’s braced himself for this moment so many times, but despite it all, he still can’t help the small drop in his chest when Even finally confirms it.

 

“You didn't let me finish.”Even adds, making Isak turn back around.

 

“Because you’re the only thing that’s worth thinking about.”

 

He’s still looking at Isak as he speaks, refusing to let either one of them look at anything but each other.

 

“You and I, we’re real. This is real. I don’t need time to figure that out, I know it now.”

 

All Isak can do is blink because Even’s gaze is piercing, deep enough that he can feel it run through him.

 

“Really?”

 

Even nods, “Do you believe me now?”

 

Isak doesn’t bother to answer him, so he just kisses him instead. He kisses him until the water turns cold and he remembers there’s shampoo left in his hair.

 

Even leaves the shower first, but not before he draws a heart in the fog clouding the shower door. They’ve probably used all the hot water left in the building’s boiler, but Isak can’t bring himself to care or get out until the heart has smeared and disappeared.

 

Even then the cold air circulating the apartment is almost enough to bring him back, but the wafting smell of food carries him into the kitchen. He’s dressed in Even’s clothing, standing in the door frame in his kitchen. He leans on the wall, the food quickly forgotten, as he watches Even at the table.

 

He’s scrunched over a journal, his hand quickly scribbling across the page. His eyebrows are knitted together, and Isak can tell he’s trying to get something out.

 

He doesn’t move, not even when he smells whatever Even’s cooking begin to burn. He wants the moment to last for as long as it can. Even with the gray sky pouring through the windows, Even looks warm and bright.

 

“Shit!” Even suddenly jumps up, the chair scraping against the tile floor. Isak quiets his laughter into his palm as he watches Even frantically dig a spatula out of a cabinet, while waving away light smoke at the same time.

Whatever he’s cooking looks burnt as he flips it in the pan, looking down at the food in disappointment.

 

“Hi.”

 

Even’s startled when he turns back around to find Isak waiting in the doorway.

 

”How long have you been standing there for?”

 

“Probably before that was burnt.” Isak teases stepping his way to Even.

 

Looking through the last wisps of lingering smoke, he sees slightly burnt edges of a grilled cheese stuck on the pan.

 

“Breakfast of champions, right?”

 

Isak nods, a smile finding a way on his face when he remembers the last time he and Even ate grilled cheeses. It seems so long ago when Isak thinks about it.

 

“I mean it would be.” Isak laughs. He glances down at the blackened bread, and then back at Even, “If it wasn’t burnt.”

 

“They wouldn’t be, if you hadn’t taken so long.” Even chuckles back, dropping the kitchen utensil so he can hold Isak’s waist instead.

 

He presses into him until Isak’s backed into the kitchen counter, with Even filling the space inbetween his legs. All they’re doing is kissing, it’s all they’ve been doing, but Isak doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the dull pressure of Even’s lips on his own.

 

So, he pulls Even closer, tilting his head so Even can kiss him deeper. Then Even kisses the back of his neck and he sighs, rolling into it.  


“Even.” Isak breathily warns, pushing him away, so Even’s no longer pressed against him.

 

Evens eyes flutter open in confusion.

 

“The food.” Isak reminds him, head tilting back like he’s trying to catch his breath.

 

While Even’s shuffling their food onto plates, Isak hops off the kitchen counter, gripping onto the edges of it until his legs remember how to work.

 

It's like they're just going on instinct now, giving their bodies what they need, and stopping just as they get it. And Even’s been pressed against him for the entire morning, the tease of his thighs in between his, and his breath crawling up Isak’s skin.

 

Something doesn’t feel right, but Isak blames it on the guilt finally catching up to him.

 

The clatter of plates distracts him from those thoughts and pulls him back onto Even, staring at him like he knows what he’s thinking.

 

“What were you doing?” Isak asks when they’ve settled onto the rug of Even’s living room, “When you were sitting at the table?”

 

Even takes a bite of sandwich, cheese spilling from the cruts when he does. “Writing.”

 

“About?”

 

“You.”

 

Isak rolls his eyes, hiding behind his own grilled cheese to hide his blush.

 

“You don’t believe me?” Even smiles.

 

When Isak shakes his head, Even eyes widen, “I’m going to write a song about you.” Even promises.

 

Isak knows it’s one he intends to keep, because he remembers Even already has.

 

“And how’s it coming along?”

 

There’s crumbs on his lips and cheese in the corner of his mouth, so it makes Isak smile even more when Even nods and says, “I’ve almost finished it. You’re going to be the first one to hear it though.”

 

“What is going to be called then?”

 

Even hums, tapping his chin like he’s thinking hard, “The boy who burnt the grilled cheese.”

 

“I thought this song was about me.” Isak snorts.

 

Even leans again, and when they kiss Isak thinks he can taste the buttery bread oiling his mouth.

 

Suddenly a loud ringing shrieks throughout the apartment, scarring each of them. They pull away as fast as they did last night. Their hearts are beating out of their chests as the ringing continues.

 

It’s like it shatters the illusion. With each ring, it reminds Isak that the world’s out there, and it’s waiting for him, probably back at his own flat with his phone pressed to his ear waiting for Isak to answer.

 

The noise is coming across the room from Even’s phone vibrating violently on the counter. Isak’s sits quietly next to it, and he’s not sure if it’s better that way or not.

Even lets the call go to voicemail, but the silence that follows makes Isak almost wish he had picked it up.

 

Even opens his mouth like he’s about to speak, but the ringing picks back up interrupting him. It’s deafening to listen to, so Isak isn’t surprised when Even walks over to pick it up. He thinks he’s going to turn his phone off, but instead, he brings it up to his ear.

 

He doesn’t say much at first, so Isak can’t make out who Even’s talking to, but by the look on his face, he knows it’s not someone he wants to be.

 

“Now?!” he suddenly yells making Isak flinch in surprise.

 

Even talks faster after that, rushing into the kitchen to finish the end of the conversation.

 

When he walks back, his phone’s no longer in his hand, but the frown pulling his face down makes Isak forget about it.

 

“Everything alright?” Isak asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

“That was Sana.” Even explains and Isak finds himself letting out a small sigh of relief.

 

He’s still frowning so Isak knows he’s got something more to say.

 

“Sonja called her.”

 

Isak stays silent, partly because he doesn’t know what to say.

 

“And now, she’s on her way here.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Even returns the silence, staring down at his feet, so he doesn’t have to look at Isak.

 

“I thought” Isak begins, trying to keep his voice from cracking, “I though you already talked to her.”

 

“I did.” Even says quickly, “But she can be...persistent.”

 

Isak looks around the room, until he finally gains the courage to say it, “Do I need to leave?”

 

“No.” Even says immediately, “I’ll go.”

 

Isak doesn’t have time to say anything else because there’s a knocking on the door that beats louder than his own nerves.

 

“I’m so sorry. ”Even apologizes shuffling around the living room for his shoes.

 

“I’m so sorry.” He repeats when he shuts the door behind him.

 

Isak can hear the faint sound of voices travelling down the hallway away from him. When he can no longer hear them, he sinks into Even’s couch, letting sadness watch over him.

 

He’s not given much time to miss Even because the door’s pulling back open. He jumps to his feet ready to meet him when he realizes it isn’t Even standing in their doorway.

 

“Hi.” Sana awkwardly smiles letting her bag drop to her feet.

 

It’s the first time Isak remembers she lives here too.

 

“Hi.” Isak waves back.

 

She walks into the kitchen, pulling out a carton of orange juice before offering Isak a glass. He takes it just so he can sip at it slowly instead of talking.

 

“Is Even here?” Sana finally asks.

 

Isak shakes his head, not bothering to tell her where he is because he knows she already does.

 

“Where you at Noora’s?”

 

Sana nods, “Everyone’s there, we just woke up.”

 

“What about you?” She asks, “Have you been here?”

 

When Isak whispers a shy “yes”, he can feel his cheeks burn.

 

“Jonas is looking for you.” She finally says making Isak still in his seat.

 

It takes Isak a few moment to reply, but when he does, he’s staring at the table, holding onto his cup so hard, his knuckles turn white“Does he know?”

 

“No.” Sana sighs, “Eva was so wasted she’s not sure what she saw. She only told me because I was the only one sober.”

 

Isak nods, letting the guilt run through him. It’s the first time since last night that it coils in him. He lets the silence drag between them, while his eyes stay stuck on the door waiting for Even to walk through it.

 

Sana must notice because she tells him, “He’s not coming back anytime soon.”

 

Isak finally tears his eyes away, looking at Sana in confusion.

 

“They do this a lot.” She explains, and Isak knows she trying her best not to seem harsh.

 

“Even said they broke up for good.”

 

“He says that a lot.” Sana nods, offering Isak a small sympathetic smile, “they break up, have huge fights, then get back together. I don’t think he’ll ever really leave her.”

 

“Oh” is all Isak can say because he can feel the small tears forming in the corner of his eyes and he knows if Sana says anything else, they’ll fall.

 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers when she sees Isak’s face drop.

 

Luckily, she doesn’t say anything else, and leaves Isak alone at the table.

 

Suddenly, the apartment no longer feels warm like it had when Even was there. The only comfort he finds is in the gray shadows driving their way through the curtains. He doesn’t let himself cry, though. Not here, not in Even’s apartment.

 

He feels like a fool finding his way out, rushing down the same flight of stairs he was running up with Even.

 

He thinks he deserves it when the rain begins to violently drop on him as he walks away from Even’s building. He doesn’t try to shield himself from it, allowing the rain to drown him.

 

Drops are scrolling down his screen when he finally checks his phone.

 

**Jonas**

11:57 AM

_Where are you?_

 

**Jonas**

11:59 am

_Isak_

 

**Jonas**

12:02 am

_Call me_

 

**Jonas**

12:07 am

_We need to talk_

 

**Jonas**

_12:10_

_Isak fucking call me_

 

For a long time Isak’s thumb hovers over the the keyboard, unsure of what he’ll send. Finally, he types it out.

 

**Isak**

12:37

busy

I’ll explain everything.

be home later

  


**Jonas**

12:39 am

Everything alright?

  


He ignores Jonas’s message, letting his phone sit in his pocket while he walks on. He slowly gets back to his place, but when he’s outside the building, he can’t bring himself to go in. The rain has let up, so he’s no longer being pelted when he walks under it. He thinks about getting on the bus, but when he sits on the bench at the stop, he can’t get himself to get back up.

 

He still hasn’t heard from Even, so he feels even worse. He doesn’t want to believe Sana, especially since Even’s words are still stuck on his skin, but as time passes, he’s beginning to. The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks Sana’s right. Every time he’s been with Even, it’s always ended the same way. He’s always goes back to her. He always will, he thinks, but he pushes that thought back as far as he can.

 

When he feels like his head’s going to explode from his thoughts, his phone rings. The screen flashes **_Even_ ** and Isak answers it before the first ring can finish.

 

“Isak.” Even’s voice comes through, so quiet he almost think it’s the static in the background playing tricks on him.

 

“Are you-” Isak begins to say before Even interrupts him.

 

“You were right, Isak. I don’t think I thought through this, I rushed into things, and now..” He rambles on, letting his words die out.

 

“Now what?” Isak asks, his voice harsh because he knows what Even’s going to say next. He wishes he could see his face to see if he looks as cold as he’s acting

 

“Now?” Even repeats, “I don’t know. I don’t think there can be a now for us right now.”

 

There’s a tight feeling in his chest that threatens to creep up to his throat, so he coughs a little, trying to loosen it all up, “Is it Sonja? Is she making you do this?”

 

“No.” Even lies, “It’s me.”

 

When silence falls between them, Isak can hear Even breathing through the phone.

 

“Even.” He whispers, “Please don’t do this.”

 

“I’m sorry, Isak. I just need some time. I’m so so sorry.”

 

And Isak wants to repeat everything Even whispered to him when they were alone and in the shower, but he can’t breathe, let alone talk.

 

“And Isak.” Even says, “Please don’t tell Jonas.”

 

The phones goes dead, and it feels like he’s done the same.

 

It’s dark when Isak begins to walk back, moving as fast as his feet will drag him. It’s not the rain and the wind that makes him feel numb, it’s Even.

 

“Isak.” Jonas voice calls out to him as soon as he shuts the door.

 

He kicks off his wet shoes, dripping onto their carpet as he follows the voice. Jonas takes one look at him and asks, “What happened to you?”

 

His eyes seem to burn through him, and Isak wishes he could disappear into the wallpaper, slip beneath the floorboard, anything that will get him away from Jonas.

 

“Isak.” Jonas presses on, “Where have you been?”

 

“Work.” Isak lies.

 

“I called, they said you didn’t go in today.”

 

He ignores Jonas’s glare when he pushes his way down the hallway.

 

“Isak.” Jonas stops him, “Where were you?” Jonas’s voice is loud, but Isak ignores him.

 

“Isak.” Jonas calls after him, chasing him down the hallway.

 

When he manages to turn Isak around to face him, his face softens, “Are you okay?”

 

That’s all it takes for Isak to finally collapse. His knees buckle under him, and he slumps down the wall. He’d already be on the ground if Jonas hadn’t caught him, catching all his weight before he can drop.

 

Isak doesn’t cry, he sobs, until his throat feels like he’ll never be able to swallow again and his eyes burn and itch.

 

“You’re alright.” Jonas whispers, rubbing small circles into his back.

 

He holds him tight enough that Isak can feel himself shaking in his arms.

 

“I’m sorry. Isak begins to apologize through broken gulps and tear stained cheeks.

 

Jonas pets down his hair, letting his thumb wipe under Isak’s eyes. He laughs lightly, “Why are you apologizing?”

 

“I” Isak begins to stutter. His lips are quivering so hard he thinks the truth is going to stumble.

 

He can feel them crawl up his throat so he buries his face in Jonas’s shirt to quiet them.

 

“I don’t know.” He finally mumbles, “It’s just been one of those days.

 

“Did something happen?” Jonas asks, “When I woke up, I couldn’t find you.”

 

“I left before everyone woke up.” Isak lies, “I just needed some space.”

 

“From me?”

 

Isak nods slowly.

 

“Did it help?”

 

“What do you think?” Isak laughs, wiping away the last of the tears clinging to his lashes.

 

Jonas laughs too, letting his smile fall when Isak sniffles and begins to move off of him. They’re still sitting on the floor with their back to the walls, when Jonas pulls him close.

 

“I’m sorry.” Jonas apologizes this time.

 

“Don’t.” Isak quickly stops him, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

 

“I do, though.” Jonas says, “I started all of this, and now I think I’m ruining our friendship.”

 

Isak sighs, letting his head fall onto Jonas’s shoulder, his eyes slipping shut. He’s exhausted. His limbs feel heavy. He opens his mouth to say something, but he can’t. Words won’t come and he doesn’t know what he would say even if they would.

 

So instead they sit in silence until Jonas shakes him off of him, “Did you hear Sonja’s back in town?”

 

“Really?” Isak tries to keep his voice from breaking, “What for?”

 

“Who knows.” Jonas shrugs, brushing Isak’s hair out of his face.

 

“Fuck” Jonas suddenly shouts, pulling at Isak’s collar, “did I do that last night?’

 

He nearly jumps out of grasp when he realizes Jonas is stroking over small bruise Even’s lips left on his throat.

 

Jonas’s hands are still loosely holding his neck when he swallows. “It’s fine. We were drunk.” He lies.

 

Though Isak waves it off, Jonas’s eyes stay fixated on his skin. His thumb slides over it again, and he presses light enough into his skin that Isak can feel it ache.

 

“Not my best work.” Jonas laughs it off, taking his hands off Isak.

 

Not your work at all, Isak thinks. But he laughs instead pushing Jonas’s shoulder so his back hits the wall.

 

Jonas lets a few moments of silnce slip by before he looks at Isak, “Is everything okay, now?”

 

Isak nods his head then, but as he drags himself into bed, he asks himself the same thing, but this time the answer is no.

 

***

 

Two days passes, and Isak still can’t look at Jonas without feeling the immediate burden of guilt sink down his stomach.

 

He’s spent the last two days buried under his comforter. He hasn’t bothered to charge his phone because he doesn’t think he can handle Even’s test. ALthough if he’s honest, he doesn’t think he could handle it if there wasn’t texts from Even waiting for him.

 

Finally, when Tuesday comes, Jonas has had enough. He almost forces Isak out of bed, throwing him into the shower even when Isak curses and tries to push his way back into bed.

 

“Come with me.” Jonas tries to encourage him, as he’s force feeding Isak dry toast, “You said you wanted to see what it looks like.”

 

“Not Today.” Isak groans, picking at the sides of the bread.

 

“Isak.” Jonas loudly whines, “You can’t stay in your room forever.”

 

Isak gives his friend a glare, knowing this isn’t going to end anytime soon if he keeps fighting.

 

“Please.” Jonas begs one last time.

 

“Fine.” Isak grunts, already regretting agreeing to it.

 

***

 

The studio’s downtown in a small brick building that Isak would never notice if Jonas wasn’t pulling him into it.

 

The entire drive over Isak spent preparing himself to walk into the room and face Even, but nothing compares him for the moment he walks through the door and everyone's staring at him.

 

They know, Isak thinks, they all know. He tries to blame paranoia, but by the way they’re all staring at him like he’s a time bomb on countdown confirms it.

 

He follows in behind Jonas, stuffing beside him in the crowded room. Jonas introduces him to a few of the men sitting behind the audio equipment, but Isak does his best to keep his eyes on the floor.

 

He sits next to Magnus when Jonas leaves to go behind the recording glass. He feels like a weight has come off his chest when he realizes Even’s not behind it.

 

He waits on the couch staring at a place in the wall, he doesn’t move, even though he’d like to be anywhere else in the world rather than here. He’s not even looking up, until the door creeks open.

 

“Even.” he hears one of the girls greet him, and his heart actually stops.

 

Hearing Even’s voice makes his chest retract. He doesn’t think the day can get any worse until he hears more people crowd into the room. He instantly recognizes Sonja’s voice, but has to look up to find out the second one belongs to Trevor.

 

“Great new, you guys.” Trevor starts, getting the band to circle around him.

 

“Sonja and I just finished talking to a few of the label managers and they’re willing to support you on a fall lineup.”

 

“What does that mean?” Mahdi asks.

 

“It means you’re going on tour!” Trevor annouces, but everyone’s to shcked to react.

 

“As an opening act of course, but still.”He adds.

 

“Who are we opening for? ”

 

“Us!” Sonja cheers, “you guys are coming on tour with us!”  



	14. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> title: 7 Catfish and the Bottlemen  
> this chapter is inspired also by the song Post Break-up Sex by The Vaccines (give it a listen!)

“You can’t go on tour.” Isak finally says when they’re back in the safety of their flat.

 

“Why not?” Jonas laughs, his lips still stained from the champagne they toasted with.

 

“Because.” Isak begins, but his excuses aren’t as quick as his rambling so he falters, waving his hand in a vague direction when he tries to go on, “Because..you can’t just leave for six months.”

 

“Why can’t I?”

 

Isak makes frustrated noise, but all he can do is cross his arms as he watches Jonas take a step forward.

 

“Afraid you’ll miss me too much?” He teases, caressing Isak’s check with the back of his hand.

 

“No.” Isak pouts pushing at his hand, just to have his own captured.

 

“Or maybe you’ll miss something else.” Jonas’s voice goes low and sultry when he presses into Isak, so their legs slot together and Isak is against the wall.

 

“There’s not much to miss.” He snorts, feeling his thighs twitch, inching further part, almost on instinct. His cheeks heaten up when Jonas leans closer, wetting his lips with his tongue.

 

He’s going to kiss him, and he would have if Isak hadn’t snapped his head to side, letting Jonas’s lips land on his jaw.

 

“Sorry.” Jonas apologizes peeling himself off Isak, giving them just enough space that Isak can look at him without touching him.

 

Isak shakes his head, noticing the blush coloring his friend’s cheeks.

 

“You know you still haven’t given me an answer?” Jonas reminds him.

 

“I don’t have one to give you yet.” He whispers, feeling Jonas’s chest collapse when he sighs.

 

“Will you have one before I leave?”

 

“That’s in a week.”

 

“Isak.” Jonas says quietly, “I want to know before I leave if there’s something here or not.”

 

“Why?” Isak smiles, “Are you planning on finally replacing me with your groupies?”

 

One corner of Jonas’s mouth pulls into a smile, and he closes the gap between them, “Why? Are you going to be jealous if I do?”

 

“No.” Isak snorts, knocking his head to the side.

 

Jonas’s eyes instantly find their way to the fading bruise on his skin. He hums when he places his thumb over it, “I still don’t remember giving this to you.”

 

“It wasn’t worth remembering.” His voice quivers, trying not remember the feel of Even’s lips pressing against him.

 

Jonas laughs, his head tilting back, when a small squeal comes afterwards.

 

“That’s because I was drunk.” He says, his eyes still on Isak’s neck, “you’d never be able to forget it if I did it when I was sober.”

 

Isak’s eyebrow raises like he’s challenging Jonas, and Jonas must accept it because he snatches the back of Isak’s thighs, pulling him off his feet and into him. He crowds Isak into the wall in quick movements that knock the air out of him.

 

“Jonas.” Isak says breathily when his feels his breath on his skin.

 

The hot breath Jonas puffs out tickles down his neck, making Isak pull Jonas closer, craning his neck so more of it is offered up to him.

 

His eyes slip shut when Jonas’s mouth finally meets his neck. As he pulls his skin between his teeth, Isak realizes it’s the last mark of Even on him. When this disappears, it’ll be like Even never touched him. It’s better off that way, Isak thinks.

 

So he pulls Jonas closer, ignoring the way Jonas’s teeth pinch down a little too hard. When Jonas pulls away, his lips are still wet and red as he stares down at his work.

 

It’s then Isak realizes he doesn’t want Jonas’s mouth off of him right now, so he lets Jonas kiss him this time.

 

He thinks this could work, that if he kisses Jonas long enough he’ll be able to forget Even. But that doesn’t stop the thoughts from racking up. Even would hold him tighter, kiss him softer, and press them closer.

 

Jonas must notice the thoughts pulling him inside his own head because he stops kissing him. He looks at him with a frown on his lips in addition to a layer of Isak’s saliva.

 

“We should stop.” Jonas says, eyes still watching Isak’s lips. He says it’s like he’s unsure he wants to.

 

Nonetheless, he lets Isak’s thighs drop, so he can land on his feet. Isak has to clutch onto Jonas’s shoulders before he’s able to stand on his own.

 

“I don’t think we should do this until you know for sure.” Jonas nods, creating distance between them.

 

Isak could groan at the coldness Jonas has left him with now that he’s no longer pressed against him, but he’s too tired to argue.

 

“You can come if you want.” Jonas says, “Everyone else is coming too.”

 

“You want me to come on tour with you?”

 

Jonas nods, “You’ll have to deal with all the groupies there though.”

 

Isak laughs, rolling his eyes. Everything tells him to say no. The thought of being stuck on the same bus with Even and Sonja should be enough. However it’s Jonas’s wide eyes that having him nodding, “Okay, I’ll go.”

 

***

 

They leave for tour on Tuesday morning before the sun has come up. They’re waiting on the curb outside their place with their luggage piled up next to them. A black sleeper bus pulls up in front of them, and Isak and Jonas share a glance.

 

“No way.” Jonas gasps when he realizes what’s happening.

 

The door swings open, Mahdi and Magnus walk out with matching grins.

 

“Is this ours?” Jonas shouts.

 

“Even got them to help us out.” Mahdi smiles, “It’s great, isn’t it?”

 

“Yea” Jonas laughs picking up his instruments, “Beats sleeping in that van for the entire tour.”

 

After they load the drums underneath in the belly of the bus, they finally step inside. He sees Even behind the wheel, and he regrets stepping on. He looks like he’s going to say something when Magnus quickly interjects.

 

“This is your guys’ bunk.” He says loudly, pulling both Isak and Jonas by their wrists down the small walkway.

 

He notices Chris, Vilde, Noora, Eva and Sana sitting on the small benches lining the wall. Their conversation briefly stop when they see him.

 

“So, I think we need to establish some bus rules for tour.” Noora speaks up after they’ve started down the highway.

 

“Like the very obvious one,” She starts, “No sex on the bus.”

 

“Like at all or just when other people are in it?” Mahdi asks.

 

“No sex in the bus at all.” Noora quickly clarifies.

 

“But.” Magnus begins to argue when Noora’s glare shuts him up.

 

“No sex on the bus, that’s final.” She repeats, her words sharp enough so there’s no room for argument.

 

“Oh and no puking inside.” Chris adds.

 

Rules continue to be thrown around until there's a small list pinned to their wall. Isak knows most will be broken tonight, but having the list tacked up makes them feel a little less like a small local band on their first tour.

 

Isak’s not even in the band, but his nerves seem to scream as they drive out of the city.

 

***

 

Their first show is in a small city six hours away. They’re parked outside the venue four hours before the show, excited to haul their instruments onto the stage when Isak sees the second tour bus and realizes it must be theirs.

 

It’s just the crew outside, unloading cases and instruments for now. Isak’s never seen so many cable in his life as he watches them carry them inside. Since they’re just an opening act they have to set up their equipment themselves, but they’ve done it at every show they’ve ever played, so it’s not like they don’t know their way around a venue.

 

Isak’s busy detangling speaker cords when he feels a pair of hands on his waist. He laughs expecting it to be Jonas, but when they whisper into his ear all it takes is a, “Remember me” for him to realize it’s not.

 

“Get off of him.”

 

But that’s Jonas’s voice, shouting over the band.

 

Nikolai's laugh sounds uneasy, but considering Jonas is pushing at his shoulder, so he’s no longer near Isak, he thinks he’s brave to even do that.

 

“Relax.” Nikolai says, his hands coming up in his defense, “I was just kidding.”

 

The crew has begun to stare their way, and Isak can see Sonja walk towards them from behind Jonas.

 

“What’s going on here?” She asks, staring between Nikolai and Jonas.

 

“Just some friendly tour christening.” Nikolai smiles.

 

“How does harassing my boyfriend constitute as friendly?” Jonas argues taking a step closer to Nikolai.

 

“Jonas.” Isak quickly pulls him back.

 

Sonja stares between the two boys before she sighs, “Let's try to keep our hands to our own boyfriends, please.”

 

She looks at Isak one last time before she rushes off, and Isak can’t tell if her comment is suppose to be aimed at him or not. Either way it makes his skin crawl. Does she know? Did Even tell her? Questions like that run through Isak’s mind all night.

 

It’s not like it’s a secret to anyone, aside from Jonas anymore. But with each passing day, Isak feels even worse. He doesn’t know how much longer he can lie to Jonas. Even worse, he doesn’t know how much longer his band is willing to do it for him.

 

He already knows the rest of the band knows, including Magnus and Sana. Ever since, he’s been holding his breath, and walking on his toes around them. However, since he hasn’t seen them since that day in the studio, it’s a lot easier pretend there isn’t some secret between them. But now that he’s living with them, it’s harder to ignore.

 

“So.” Chris nods as they’re sitting behind the stage waiting for the clock to strike 8, “How many people do you think are here to actually here to see us?”

 

“I saw a couple of kids with our shirts on.” Mahdi tells them, sipping from a canned beer.

 

“Noora took a few pictures with some girls outside the venue earlier.” Vilde says.

 

“How embarrassing would it be if you guys went out there and no one knew who you where?” Magnus laughs.

 

“That’s actually happened before.” Even reminds them.

 

“I forgot about that!” Magnus claps, laughing when the memory comes back to him, “It was at that dive bar outside of Joansville, right?”

 

“Fuck them. That was a good show.” Chris curses taking a gulp from her cup.

 

“It was!” Mahdi agrees.

 

The conversation ends because Vilde’s phone sounds off an alarm. _8’ clock showtime_ , it reads. After a quick picture and shot they run out the play their first show.

 

“Eva and I are working the merch table after the show, if you want to help?” Sana whispers as the band begins to play.

 

He watches Jonas beat on his symbols before he answers,“Yea, sounds good. I’ll meet you guys back there.”

 

Working at the merch table is a lot harder than Isak would have expected. Their near the bar so they get an overload of drunken teens with fake ids buying their shirts and chatting them up.

 

When their line finally seems to die down, Isak notices Sonja’s band’s finally on stage. The rest of the band has joined them at the table, signing vinyls and shirts while the band continues, except for Even.

 

“How’d we do?” Jonas smiles, sweat drenched and out of breath when he comes up to Isak.

 

“Probably your best show yet.” Isak tells him.

 

“You think?” Jonas laughs using the towel he has stuffed in his jeans to dry his face.

 

Isak shakes his head. They watch silently as Sonja’s band performs. The crowd’s louder that they were before. Isak’s never really heard Sonja perform, but he can make out the lyrics clearly being sung back to them. He watches Jonas stare in awe at the crowd, then at Jonas. With stage lights highlighting his skin and shining over his eyes, Isak can’t look away.

 

“What?” Jonas laughs almost shyly when he notices Isak starring.

 

“You really love this, don’t you?”

 

“I just can’t believe it took me this long to get here.” Jonas nods, “I want to do this for the rest of my life, Isak.”

 

“You should. You look happy.” Isak smiles, “You look really happy”

 

Jonas laughs putting his arms Isak to pull him closer. Isak doesn’t mind his sweat or his post-show smell so much anymore.

 

Jonas presses a wet kiss to his temple before he whispers, “I am happy.”

 

The show ends at half past ten, but Isak spends the next half hour shuffling through boxes for the correct size t-shirt. He doesn’t know how Sana’s keeping up with the line, but everytime he thinks it’s becoming too much, she’s just keeps taking their orders.

 

They make enough in their tip jar to buy enough alcohol to last them the night. The night’s just begun, but Isak knows that the “no puking in the van” rule is definitely going to be broken tonight.

 

They all shuffle into Sonja’s buss. It’s a lot bigger and a lot nicer than theirs. Bottles are passed around and they have the music on so loud the windows vibrate. Overall it’s a good night. He, Jonas and Magnus are pushed to the back of the bus, which he doesn’t mind as much because Even and Sonja are stuck in the front part, and there’s too many people in between that Isak doesn’t have to see them.

 

It’s sometime after 2am and seven shots that Jonas can’t keep his eyes open. He’s drunk, probably just as drunk as Chris and Eva.

 

It’s comedic watching the three of them stumble out of the bus. Mahdi tries to help, but he’s drunk so much that the four of them tumble into the concrete, erupting with giggles. Isak watches them sprawl out on the sidewalk, ready to fall asleep right there, right now.

 

“Sometimes I think we should just rename our band to The Alcoholics.” Noora laughs, standing beside Isak, over all her drunk friends.

 

“I want to lay on the ground too!” Vilde drunkenly cheers.

 

Before Noora can stop her, she’s diving into the pile of the bodies. A collective groans comes from all of them when she lands on top.

 

“The Lightweights would have been better.” Isak jokes watching Vilde tuck herself beside Eva.

 

Noora laughs, reaching into her pocket for her phone. Isak watches her take a few photos before she beings to help them up. Isak doesn’t know how they manage to do ito, but they get everyone back inside their van and out of their shoes.

 

Jonas flops onto their bunk, wrestling with the sleeves of his shirt. Isak chuckles watching as he tries to twist himself out his clothing. He finally gives in, pulling Jonas’s shirt over his head for him.

 

He can smell the alcohol on his breath when Jonas yawns a “Thank you.”

 

While Isak is slipping off his own clothes, Jonas manages to get off his jeans throwing them off the bunk so they land on Isak. He goes to yell at Jonas when he sees he’s already passed out. As he shuts the curtain, he hears Noora yell, “Chris! Outside! Not in the van.”

 

He laughs to himself, pushing Jonas over to make room for himself. The bed is so small that Isak has no choice then to press against Jonas’s chest, but he can’t sleep with Jonas’s face so close to his. So, he shifts so it’s his back to Jonas’s chest not his own chest.

 

He feels Jonas’s limbs pull over him, just as he’s about to falls asleep. He presses back into it, even though it’s not the arms he wishes that were encircling him.

 

Isak doesn’t stay asleep for long after that. He’s not sure if it’s the heat from sleeping so close to Jonas or the sound of traffic that’s keeping him up. Either way it makes him lay awake staring at the bunk in front of them until he groans in annoyance, finding his way off the bus. He vaguely remembers a gas station down the street, and decides that’s better than suffering in their bunk.

 

He stumbles to the door, doing his best to keep quiet. He doesn’t want to wake anyone up, but that fails when he hears a second person climb out of bed. He doesn’t know who it is until they step outside, and the streetlights reveal their face.

 

“What do you want?” He hisses when he sees Even following behind him.

 

“Where are you going?” Is all he asks, ignoring Isak’s attitude.

 

The Valero street sign glows at the end of the block, so Isak doesn’t answer.

 

“Isak.” Even calls out for him, jogging so he can keep up with him.

 

It only makes Isak walk faster, wishing Even would take the hint.

 

“Can we talk, please?”

 

Isak continues to ignore him, stomping down the street to let Even know he doesn’t want to. When they get to the as station, Even steps in front of him, so Isak can’t ignore him now.

 

“We’re living on the same bus, you can’t keep ignoring me.”

 

“I can try.” Isak finally says, pushing past Even and into the store.

 

“I really am sorry.” He hears Even say as he’s cutting down on aisle, as if he could lose Even in the small convenience store lanes.

 

“You already said that.” Isak grunts as he swings open a refrigerator door.

 

“Please just let me explain.” Even pleads.

 

“No. There’s nothing I want to hear from you.” Isak shouts loud enough that it earns him a look from the man behind the counter.

 

“Isak.” Even says quieter.

 

Finally, he turns to look at him. He’s so exhausted that all he can do is shrug and sigh, “What do you want, Even?”

 

“How are you doing?” Even asks.

 

“I’m great, Even.” Isak laughs, loud and hollow that it hurts to listen to.

 

“I know it’s bad right now, and you might hate me, but you’ll see, it really is for the best.”

 

“I could never hate you.” Isak whispers, swallows the trembles trying to come out.

 

Isak meets Even’s eyes and he hasn’t realized it until Even’s this close, but he looks just as exhausted as him.

 

Isak watches his hand move forward and he think that Even’s going to touch him, but right before his fingertips reach Isak’s cheek, Even pulls his hand back.

 

“I wish you would.” Even whispers taking a step closer.

 

“And why’s that?”

 

“Because I let you think we could actually work.”

 

It’s then Isak feels whatever’s left of his heart break, and splinter inside his chest.

 

“Don’t you still want me?”

 

“Isak, _please_.”

 

“Did you mean any of it?” Isak asks, frustration building in his voice.

 

“I meant all of it, but that’s not enough. Sometimes the people you love aren’t the people you end up with.”

 

“Fuck that.” Isak curses taking a step forward.

 

“No, Isak.” Even pushes him away, and even though it’s gently, Isak feels like Even has bruised him. “You and I could never work.”

 

“Why not?” Isak asks before he can stop himself.

 

“We just” Even sighs, “meet at the wrong time, I guess.”

 

“You know if you meet someone you love there’s never a wrong time to meet them?”  

 

“What are you trying say?”

 

“Maybe we were never in love.”

 

With that he pushes past Even, making sure to knock shoulders with him as he stomps his way out. He runs down the block this time, tears clouding his eyes. When he finally gets back to their bus, he tries to stop his tears before he goes in, but it seems to worsen them until he has to cover his own sobs with the back of his hand.

 

Isak doesn’t sleep at all that night.

 

***

 

 **“** Jonas.” Isak whispers when light comes through the window.

 

Jonas mumbles tucking his face further into the pillow.

 

“Jonas.” Isak whispers again, shaking his shoulder until he wakes up.

 

“I think I’m going to die.” Jonas groans, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

 

He groans again clutching his forehead and shielding his eyes from the morning light.

 

“Jonas, I need to tell you something.”

 

Jonas immediately turns over so he can face him.

 

“I’m ready.” Isak whispers, “Ask me again.”

 

“Are you sure?” Jonas rushes out, wide awake by now.

 

Isak nods.

 

“Do you wanna do this for real, this time? Just you and me.”

 

Jonas’s words come off so awkward that it makes him laugh.

 

“That’s not the answer I was hoping for.” Jonas mumbles.

 

Isak laughs against crushing their lips together, “Yes.” He says kissing the word into Jonas’s mouth, “Let's do this.”

 

***

 

They spend the entire day driving, crowded in their small bunk watching the landscapes pass through the window. Isak’s laid over Jonas’s chest, and he tries not to think about Even’s chest being a lot softer to lay on.

 

With the hum of the road playing like a soundtrack and Jonas’s hand petting through his hair, he almost feels happy. He would be if he didn’t hear the faint sound of Even’s voice at the front of the bus.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Jonas asks.

 

“What your parents are going to say.” Isak lies.

 

When Jonas laughs, his voice vibrates through his chest soft enough that Isak can feel it, “They probably knew this entire time.”

 

“You know when we were in highschool, I had the biggest crush on you.” Isak finally admits.

 

“What?!” Jonas gasps.

 

“You didn’t know?” Isak laughs.

 

“I mean,” Jonas begins to grow flustered, “I just thought it was platonic.”

 

Isak snorts, moving further up Jonas’s chest, “I broke up two of your relationships. “How did you not know?”

 

Jonas’s eyes squint like he’s finally putting all the pieces together.

 

“You asshole!” Jonas laughs giving his shoulder a teasing push, “No wonder I never got laid in high school!”

 

Isak laughs, his face turning into a mocking scowl, “too bad you didn’t know. I would have totally slept with you.”

 

Jonas smirks his hands sliding down to Isak’s thighs, pulling them apart so Isak is straddling him.

 

“And what about now?” He asks, as if Isak’s answer isn’t the exact same thing.

 

“I’m not as easy as I was back then.” Isak smiles presses his hips down until he’s sat over Jonas’s dick.

 

When he grinds his hips, Jonas pulls him down, kissing him sloppily. As Jonas tongue slides against his lip, he suddenly remembers they’re stuck inside a crowded van full of people.

 

He pulls back, watching Jonas’s eyes flutter open, annoyance in his expression. He swats Jonas’s hands away when they reach for the buckle in his pants.

 

“No sex in the van, remember.”

 

Jonas rolls his eyes, “I hate being on tour.” Jonas grumbles before he’s thrashing his leg over Isak and flipping them over, but the bunk is so small, he knocks his head onto the ceiling when he’s on top.

 

Isak laughs, watching his friend wince in pain.

 

“Shut up.” Jonas says before Isak feels a tug on the back of his head as Jonas pulls his head up, kissing him deep enough that it drives him back down.

 

“Just because we can’t see you, doesn’t mean we can’t hear you.” Mahdi shouts, “And we really don’t want to hear you.”

 

Immidley Isak pushes Jonas off him, embarrassed by the thought of the entire van hearing them.

 

“Then put in headphones.” Jonas yells back, ready to kiss Isak again.

 

Music gets turned on, so loud that it’ll do a lot more than cover of the sound of them kissing, and when Isak realizes it’s a song by Catfish and the Bottlemen, he knows Mahdi isn’t the one who turned it on.

 

***

 

The second show’s in a big city, and they’ve spent two full days on a bus, so everyone’s itching to get out.

 

All they’ve eaten since the last show are drive-thru burgers and gas station groceries. So the first thing they do after the show is crowd into the closest diner.

 

Both bands are stuffed around one table, but Isak still manages to end up fighting for the last spot not next to Even. Luckily, Eva notices and pushes Vilde over so he can sit next to her instead. Although at this point, he’d rather sit next to Even.

 

“Hi.” Eva smiles when he takes his seat.

 

Isak smiles back wishing he could hide behind the menu.

 

“I’m not going to tell.” She whispers, and even though he knows she’s being quiet enough that Jonas won’t hear, he still feels his body tense.

 

“None of us will.” She continues, “It would ruin the band if we did.”

 

“Thank you.” Isak whispers back.

 

Eva nods, the corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile, “You just have to promise me you’ll never do it again.”

 

“I promise.” Isak rushes out, “It was a stupid mistake, and-”

 

“It’s okay.” Eva quickly stops him, “trust me, I get it.”

 

She laughs lightly, making Isak feel more at ease. It’s the first time in weeks that he feels like Jonas isn’t going to find out.

 

As the meal goes on, it goes surprisingly well. Isak figures that it’s probably because everyone’s so starved for real food, that they’re too busy chewing to talk. Still, Isak remembers it’s first thing he and Jonas have done as an actual couple. Grant it there are a dozen people surrounding them, but Jonas does keep a hand on his thigh the entire night.

 

Isak has noticed the dwindle of his friends from their table all night, but he think it’s his sheer stupidity that doesn’t allow him to notice that it’s going to just be himself, Jonas, Sonja and Even left at the table when Noora finally leaves.

 

When they’re all finally alone, Isak tries his best to not think about what would have happened if Sonja wasn’t here and Jonas hadn’t turned things serious. He doesn’t entertain the idea for much longer because Sonja’s looking at him with wine colored lips.

 

“Are you staying for the entire tour?” She asks.

 

“No,” Isak answers, “I’m leaving Sunday. Classes start up again soon, so I have to get ready to go back.”

 

Soja nods, “Too bad. It must be hard to go back to that after you’ve seen all of this.” She brings her wine glass back up to her lips, taking another sip with her eyes locked on Isak’s.

 

Isak clears his throat, intimidated by Sonja’s gaze, “I’m a senior this year, so I’m excited to go back.”

 

“And you’re ready to leave Jonas behind for the next six months?”

 

“It’s not like I’m not going to see him.” Isak begins to argue, “I’m coming down to see him whenever I can.”

 

“Hm.” Sonja hums, “I think the first tour’s always the hardest.”

 

“I think we’ll be okay.” Jonas finally speaks up.

 

Sonja nods again, sipping from her glass like she’s through with their conversation She must be because she doesn’t do anything to stop the silence from replacing their conversation.

 

“I think everyone's across the street at the bar.” Jonas is the first to speak.

 

“We should go!” Even quickly suggests.

 

He empties his glass before jumping to his feet, pulling Sonja up with him.

 

“Come on then.” He he says, before leading them out the restaurant.

 

Jonas holds onto his hand as they run across the street, and into the bar. It seems like everyone on their tour is inside.

 

It’s easy to spot them through the crowd. They’re all still lounging around the bar, keeping close so they can hear each other over the music.

 

Somehow, Magnus gets the bartender to turn on their cd. He’ll never get how he manages to do it, especially since the bar look like it homes truckers more than punk bands, but Even’s voice comes pouring out the speakers.

 

And that’s when Isak takes his first drink. After that, he decides to drink every time he find himself thinking about Even. Although it’s hard not to when he’s got his voice in his ear, and the sight of him cross the bar, laughing with Sonja.

 

“Don’t you think you should slow down?” Jonas asks him when he sees Isak work on his next drink.

 

Isak gulps it down, “Why? You don’t.”

 

“That’s because I’m used to it. You never drink more than the couple beers.” Jonas says, “Is everything alright?”

 

“Why do you always asks that?” Isak mutters.

 

“Because there usually something is.” He snaps back.

 

“Well nothing’s wrong with me right now!” He yells.

 

The bar goes silent for a second, so Isak’s voice sounds a lot louder than he remembers raising it to be.

 

“Okay.” Jonas backs down, “nothing’s wrong with you.”

 

He scoffs off, leaving Isak behind while he goes to the pool table with Mahdi and Noora.

 

“Hey!”

 

He looks behind him, smiling too widely is Vilde, sipping something pink from a wine glass.

 

Isak tries to smile, feeling the alcohol settle in his stomach.

 

“Is everything alright?” She asks, nervously throwing a look in Jonas’s direction.

 

“I wish everyone would stop asking me that.” He mutters, his words beginning to slur.

 

“Okay. We don’t have to talk about that.”  Vilde smiles, “How are you liking tour?”

 

Isak laughs, starring into the reflection in his drink, “I don’t know how people can do this for months.”

 

“It’s exciting, though, isn’t. A different town everyday. What’s not to like.”

 

Isak knows her question is rhetorical, but he still wants to complain. And the alcohol has loosened his lips, so he does.

 

“Doesn’t it bother you why this tour happened so fast? A month ago you guys lost a booked show to a bigger band.”

 

Vilde pushes her shoulders up, “that’s just how it goes. Once you’re in, you’re in.”

 

Isak pushes closer so he doesn’t have to speak so loudly, “It doesn’t have to do anything with Sonja or Trevor.”

 

“You sound like Magnus.” Vilde clears her throat and offers a nervous smile, “And Trevor’s doing what he thinks is best for the band. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be on tour.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means,” Vilde begins, whispering so Isak can only hear it, “if he thinks the band’s better off if Even’s linked to Sonja, then that’s what has to happen.”

 

“And everyone's okay with it?”

 

“It was Even’s choice.”

 

Hearing those words makes Isak sick, and not just in the literal way.

Vilde screams when he hunches over, vomiting on the ground next to her feet.

 

He hears someone working behind the bar yell something about him getting out, but Jonas is already helping him out the door.

 

They sit outside the bus until Isak finally feels like his throat and stomach no longer burn.

 

He can’t wait to go home tomorrow.

 

***

 

As expected, Isak wakes up with a throbbing in his head and a dry soreness in his throat. He’s in the bed alone, thanking whatever part of the universe that’s still on his side that Jonas isn’t next to him.

 

“Here.” Jonas’s voice comes through, but Isak sees pills before he sees Jonas.

 

He swallows them down with nearly a full bottle of gatorade, groaning when Jonas pulls their curtain open.

 

“We’re all walking to the breakfast place down the block, if you want to come.”

 

Isak shakes his head, regretting it instantly.

 

“I’ll bring you something back.” Jonas promises before her slips out.

 

Isak doesn’t wait for the door to slam shut before he’s closing his eyes, falling back asleep.He doesn’t know how much time has pass when Jonas comes back to wake him up.

 

He stuffs a styrofoam contains his face. Isak’s face drops when he opens it.

 

“Even got you this.”

 

Isak takes one look at the gold grilled cheese in the plate and vomits one last time onto it. Perhaps the oily smell that upset his stomach or maybe it was the mention of Even’s name after everything that happened last night.

 

***

 

Isak thinks it’s sometime around mid afternoon that his hangover finally subsides.

 

“How can you go through this everyday.” Isak groans feeling the last traces of his headache stubbornly pound against his temple.

 

“It’s not everyday.” Jonas laughs looking over at Isak, “And I know when to stop.”

 

“Jonas, you pass out at least three times a week.”

 

“But I never throw up.”

 

Isak grips the pillow smacking Jonas with until he climbs over him, grabbing his arms and pinning them over his head. His weight is enough to hold him still.

 

“Everyone’s going to a local show tonight. Supposedly Chris knows some guy in a band performing here.”

 

“Okay.” Isak says, trying to ignore the fact that if Jonas puts down anymore pressure he’ll be breaking Noora’s number one rule.

 

“We don’t have to go.” Jonas offers, “We could stay here.”

 

“And do what?”

 

Jonas smiles, bringing himself down kissing him without hesitation. Isak breath hitches when Jonas pushes his hand into the top of his pants, groaning a little when Jonas presses his palm through his underwear.

 

“Want to break the bus’s number one rule?” Jonas aks, clumsily undoing Isak’s pants, making his hips stutter when his fingers brush over his dick.

 

They kiss again, fast and desperate, Isak’s fingers digging into Jonas’s shoulders. Jonas doesn’t stop kissing him, until he tries to get Isak’s shirt off. HIs breath is in face as he tries to undress, but each time he moves he knocks his head on the ceiling or an arm into Isak’s ribs.

 

Isak’s pretty sure they’re going to get more bruises trying to have sex then actually having it. Finally Jonas’s mouth slides down his jaw, kissing his neck. Isak groans as he sucks and bites over his pulse, tongue flicking out over it. Isak arches up, moaning.

 

“What if they walk in?” He stutters trying to breathe as Jonas bites his collarbone, smoothing over the sore spot with his tongue.

 

“They can’t see us.” Jonas whispers, “The curtain’s covering us.”

 

“Okay.” Isak pants, tilting his chin up.

 

Jonas’s eyes flicker down to to his parted lips, and he gets it. He grips Isak’s chin and kisses him again, open mouthed and wet. Isak tries to move upwards, rubbing into Jonas’s thighs, feeling Jonas’s erection press into his hip.

 

Isak chases after his mouth when Jonas pulls himself off, disappearing behind the curtain when he jumps off. Isak’s chest is falling so rapidly it almost aches to breathe. He hears Jonas rustling sound in their bags, and isn’t surprised when he comes back prepared.

 

“Fuck, this bed is so small.” Jonas complains, squeezing in between Isak’s thighs. He’s sat on his ankles with his head hunched over, while Isak lays sprawled out in front of him.

 

“Is this alright?” Jonas asks after he pulls Isak’s boxers down his legs.

 

“Maybe I should lay on my stomach.” Isak says already twisting into position.

 

He hears the bottle uncap, and feels Jonas’s hands cup his ass. His hips come off the mattress when Jonas finally slips his fingers between his cheeks. He teases his fingertips over his skin, rubbing over his hole until Isak is pushing his ass into Jonas’s hands, ready to beg for more.

“Jonas,” he moans, when he pushes a finger in.

 

Isak rolls his hips up and urges him on until Jonas’s finger is moving in and out easily adding a second finger. He doesn’t need more encouragement after that though. And Isak squeezes his eyes shut, riding back against his fingers when Jonas starts to fuck into him faster.

 

He feels Jonas press a kiss into his shoulder, and down his spine, still moving his fingers inside of him. Isak’s mouth falls open in a loud moan when Jonas curls his fingers _there_.

 

He does it again, then again, until Isak arches off the bed, bunching the sheets between his knuckles, and biting down on his arm trying not to get too loud. The coiling in his stomach sends hot white waves rolling down his stomach. He can feel it twist inside of him until Jonas’s fingers come out of him.

A cold scrap of metal crimes against his leg as he waits for Jonas to pull it on.

 

His body just goes with it when Jonas’s hands roll him over. He can feel the sweat sticking their skin together when Jonas grips the back of his knee, putting it over his shoulder.

 

Jonas pushes in slowly, his chest coming down onto Isak’s. His hips roll until Jonas grinds down, finding a rhythm. Isak moans, lips slack and wide as Jonas speeds up.

 

“Thought about this for so long.” Jonas says against his mouth, “just you and me.”

 

His thrusts become erratic and uncontrolled, but harder until Isak feels like his body’s about to come off the bed. And then Jonas snaps his hips to a stop, sushing him quickly. He can hear the door to their bus creek open, but Jonas is pressed so deep into him that his mouth falls open.

 

Before he can make a sound, Jonas presses his plan to his lips, and pushes down just enough that it gets muffled into his hand; it’s so quiet that only Jonas can hear.

 

“We’re going to the show now!” Magnus voice calls out.

 

Isak watches Jonas catch his breath before he answers back, “We’re staying in.”

 

No one says anything, but he can hear multiple sets of footsteps move around the bus, and his heart quickens every time they step a little too closely to their bed. Neither of them dare to move, not even when Magnus asks Jonas if he’s seen his overcoat.

 

They seem to take forever to leave. Isak tries to keep his hips from moving, but Jonas is still deep inside him and he’s right there, close enough that his hips move on his own accord.

 

Jonas head snaps down when Isak’s hips shift, pulling himself back just to thrust forward the tiniest. With Jonas’s hand still clmaped over his mouth, it captures the moan before it can slip out. His eyes widen like he’s warning Isak to stay still. Except Isak can feel his muscles jump and spas uncontrollably moving his hips.

 

“We’ll be back later.” Noora calls out, at the same time Jonas moves one hand to still Isak’s movements.

 

“Remember the rules!” She says, and Isak can hear her jump out the bus.

 

His limb feels heavy when he reaches out, pushing back the curtain just enough to see through a small slit between it.

 

“Everyone out?” Jonas whispers as he moves his hand off his mouth.

 

Isak looks around, his breath catching when he sees Even’s staring right back at him.

 

He keeps their eyes connected when he answers Jonas, “Yea, everyone’s out.”

 

“Fuck, Isak.” Jonas moans, moving down for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

 

“Fuck me.” Isak moves his hips, moaning loud enough so Even can hear it.

 

Jonas listens to him, rocking their bodies together.

 

Isak reaches out pushing the curtain open just an inch more. Even’s still there, with his eyes locked on Isak’s face.

 

This is different than all those times they left the door open or offered their tent to him. And Isak knows it’s cruel, he knows that. But it makes him feel a little bit better knowing Even’s looks just as hurt as Isak feels.

 

He’s still looking at Even when Jonas reaches down and tugs at his cock. He’s about to come when Even finally moves, and through hooded eyes he watches Even shut the door quietly behind him.

 

“Oh, fuck,” Jonas grunts out between his teeth and pushes in again and again and tugs again and again until their bodies tense up and they come.  

 

Jonas collapses beside him, the damp sheets sticking to their skin.

 

“You think they heard us?” Jonas asks, drying off Isak’s chest with one of their shirts.

 

“No.” Isak lies, “they didn’t even know.

 

***

 

He leaves early the next morning, hugging everyone for a quick goodbye.

He doesn’t bother saying anything to Even. He can’t even meet Isak’s eyes.

 

***

 

The two weeks since Isak left seem to drag by now that Jonas isn’t with. His life’s no longer full of late night shows and drunken parties. Instead he’s rushing to class by 9 am and leaving work by 9pm. He comes home to an empty apartment, hating the way silence is only one to keep him company. Most night he wishes he was hearing Jonas’s drums beating in their living room. He tries his best keep up with Jonas, but he’s on the road so much his signal cuts out and he’s busy in soundcheck. Most days he’s lucky to catch him in a quick 5 minute conversation before he’s on stage or slurring his words.

 

It’s during one of his poli-sci courses that his phone begins to ring. He ignores at first, trying to focus on the last bits of the lecture. However, when it thrashes around in his pocket again, he can’t ignore it.

 

**Jonas**

(10:56 am)

_ANSWER_

 

There’s still over twenty minutes left in the lecture, but Isak can’t sit through them after Jonas’s text. The bad thoughts come first: did Jonas find out?

 

He quickly steps outside, calling Jonas back as fast as he fingers will move.

 

“Jonas.” Isak quickly answers the phone.

 

“Miss me, yet?” Jonas laughs into it.

 

Isak can feel his heart begin to regulate, “I’m in class.”

 

“We’re playing two hours away, come!” Jonas tells him, “I miss you.”

 

He takes a moment to consider his options. He could ditch classes and leave now, sending all his professors a bullshit excuse email, or he could sit through them nd leave when they’re over.

 

Isak choses the first option.

 

***

 

Jonas kisses him as soon as he sees him. The “hi” Isak already started to say getting lost between their lips when Jonas doesn’t let him go. He can hear the wolf whistles and laughter from everyone else behind them in the background.

 

He ignores them for a few seconds until his lungs scream for oxygen.

 

“You did miss me, I knew it.” Jonas teases.

 

“You told me to come.” Isak reminds him.

 

Jonas laughs, and there’s something about the weight of his arm around Isak’s shoulders that makes him feel the most comfortable he’s been for weeks.

 

“We have a show tonight, but then we don’t play again until Thursday.” Jonas tells.

 

“Are you coming home?” Isak asks.

 

Jonas nods, holding on to Isak’s waist, “Can’t wait to fuck you in a real bed again.”

 

Isak’s blushes a hot red in embarrassment and anticipation.

 

“Thank god you’re here.” Magnus speaks up, coming to greet them, “Jonas has been bitching about being lonely since you left.”

 

“Shut up.” Jonas pushes at him.

 

“It’s even worse when he’s drunk.” Magnus goes on, “Tell him what you said!”

 

“Magnus, I swear I’ll tell Vilde what _you_ said.” Jonas warns him.

 

“Okay, okay.” Magnus stops.

 

“What did you say?” Isak hasn’t stopped laughing. He presses closer to Jonas, “c’mon tell me.”

 

“I’ll tell you when we get home.” Jonas whispers in his ear.

 

Jonas said it so low that there’s no way Magnus could have heard him, but the look Isak gets on his face gives it away anyway. He laughs when he notices Isak’s blushing.

 

“Are you guys coming, or not!?” Mahdi yells out them.

 

Being back on the bus feels like stepping back into summer especially when Even looks at him like that.

 

He tears his eyes away, forcing a smile on his face. He hasn’t spoken to Even since he left, and he’s not ready to break that streak.

 

When Isak’s walking down the familiar hallway to the bunks he notices the list of rules scribbled over.

 

“What happened to the no sex on the bus rule.” He asks, realizing “while anyone is on it” has been added next to it.

 

“Noora broke it.” Chris laughs, “so we made her change it.”

 

“Chris stop telling people that.” Noora shouts.

 

“You got laid! Why wouldn’t you want people to know?” Chris jokes making everyone laugh.

 

And just like that Isak feels like he never left, like he’s home.

 

***

 

Playing a show so close to their hometown makes everyone ricochet with bottled up energy. While they’re waiting for the show to begin, he’s busy listening to Chris go on about a show they played two weeks. Supposedly the place blew a fuse in the middle of their set so the rest of the show had to be played acoustically. While he's listening, he wonders why Jonas hadn’t mentioned it before.

 

“Let me in! I’m friends with the band.”

 

They all look down the hallway where the arguing seems to be happening.

 

“Don’t throw me out! I’ll just come back in.” the yelling goes on.

 

“Wait.” Vilde speaks up, “Is that Eskild?”

 

She jumps up waiting for no one to answer as she runs in that direction.

 

“Eskild!” Everyone hears her squeal.

 

“You guys have security guards any everything. When did you guys get so famous?” He laughs as he walks into their dressing room.

 

He quickly hugs everyone before he steals on of the bottle from their bags. When he pops it open cheering loudly is when the night truly begins.

 

Since it’s their first break, there's no rush to get home. Instead they use the back room in the venue to party.  Sometime during the night he and Jonas get separated. He doesn’t think too much of it until he sees Jonas thirty minutes later, standing near the hallway with a blank look on his face.

 

It’s like the music, the dancing and everyone falls silent when Jonas looks at him.

 

He pushes his way out of the crowd, running to Jonas. This is it, the catalyst, the explosion, the secret finally coming out.

 

“I’m sorry.” Isak immediately apologizes.

 

“No.” Jonas shakes his head, his face pinched and screwed into a frown, “You wouldn’t do that.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Isak repeats. He’d say it forever if he thought there was a possibility of Jonas believing him.

 

He goes to hold Jonas’s arms when Jonas pushes him away. He doesn’t fall, but there's enough force to make him stumble backwards.

 

“I asked you, Isak!” He yells, “You said you wanted this!”

 

“It was before I told you.” Isak tries to explain.

 

“But it was after I asked you.” Jonas shouts, “You know how I felt, and you did it anyway. And you lied about it.” Jonas’s voice is so loud that it’s beginning to frighten him, “You lied about it for weeks.”

 

“Jonas.” Isak hears Mahdi step in.

 

It’s then Isak realsies the music has been turned down and everyone's watching them argue.

 

Jonas pushes back against Mahdi when he tries to comfort him.

 

“And you all knew!” Jonas continues.

 

“Jonas, I’m sorry.” Isak speaks up, fighting back the tears in his eyes.

 

“Where is he?” Jonas ignores him, looking around the room.

 

He violently turns on his heels, rushing down the hallway.

 

“Even!” He yells out.

 

Isak tries to run after him, but he’s too late. Jonas already has Even pushed into the wall by his shirt collar.

 

Even punches him first, just hard enough that it gets Jonas off him. They’re only apart for a few seconds before Jonas is back on him, grabbing his shoulders, and swinging his arms. Isak is pushed back when he tries to separate them. Instead, it’s Eskild and Mahdi pulling the two boys apart. Even when they’re captured by their friends’s arms they still try to pull back together.

 

“What the fuck was that for!” Even yells, holding his nose.

 

Instead of answering his question, Jonas thrashes around harder trying to break out of Eskild’s grasp. Finally he gets himself out. He’s breathing so heavily, Isak can see his chest heaving.

 

“I’m done.” Jonas finally snarls, “With everything: him and the band.”

 

He doesn’t look back when he kicks open the door on his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the support!!  
> 


	15. Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title: Anything by Catfish and the Bottlemen  
> Isak's song is really Mooseblood's song 'Honey'
> 
> One chapter left!! <3

The blood hasn’t even finished drying on Even’s shirt when Trevor arrives. He’s sitting there with ice pressed on his face reminding Isak that it’s the second he’s looked like that because of him.

Mahdi was right: someone always has to get punched when they’re together.

It’s sometime after 2 in the morning, but sleep isn’t on anyone’s mind. There’s too many nerves pressing inside them that they can’t even sit still. Even with six people trying, reaching Jonas seems to be impossible. Since he’s stormed out, the only thing they’ve heard from Jonas is his voicemail. He knows there’s too much anger and alcohol in Jonas right now for him to be on his own. Isak wishes he’d come back, even if it means he’ll yell at Isak some more. He deserves it.

As he sits on their tour bus, Isak feels like there are pins under his skin, knowing he doesn’t deserve to sit there especially now that Jonas isn’t. When Trevor stomps on the bus, he demands the band follow him to the back. Everyone else waits up front in silence trying to capture parts of their conversation.

 

“Where’s Jonas?” He hears Trevor ask.

 

“We don’t know, he’s not answering his phone.” Noora sighs.

 

“And what did he say exactly?”

 

“He said he’s done with the band.” Mahdi fills him in.

 

Isak’s glad they don’t list his name off as well.

 

“Okay.” Trevor starts, “We can get you guys a backup drummer, if that’s what you need.”

 

“We can’t play if we don’t have Jonas.” Mahdi argues, “We’re not bringing someone new on to replace him.”

 

“It would just be until he comes back.” Trevor tries to encourage them.

 

“If he comes back.” He hears Chris mumble.

 

“Chris!” Noora yells, although they’re all thinking it.

 

“We’re not replacing Jonas. He’s part of the band.” Noora says.

 

  
“If he’s out of the band, there’s nothing we can do about it. And it doesn’t make any sense to leave if he’s not going to come back.” Trevor goes on.

 

“It’s our fault Jonas is gone, and I don’t want to play if Jonas isn’t.” Mahdi says.

 

“I’m with Mahdi.” Chris adds.

 

“Me too.” Noora finally says.

 

Even’s the only one who hasn’t said anything, and Isak keeps waiting for him to speak.

 

“Let me be very clear.” Trevor speaks, and Isak can hear the threat forming, “If you leave this tour, your contract will be in jeopardy.  He pauses shortly before he continues, “Breaking this contract will blacklist your band. Every label after this will think twice about signing you after this.”

 

It feels like hours before someone finally speaks, and it’s Even that does.

 

“It’s what we have to do.” He says.

 

Everyone else must agree because he hears Trevor let out a loud sigh.

 

“You’re going to regret this.” He insists.

 

“I don’t want to be in a band if Jonas isn’t in it.” Mahdi says.

 

“Then congratulations.” Trevor claps, “You no longer are.”

 

Trevor leaves soon after with his phone is pressed to his ear as he rushes off their bus. The band walks back into the main area with their heads hung. No one speaks for a long time. In fact, no one says anything that night. Isak doesn’t think there are any words they can say.

 

***

 

At 6am a message goes out confirming the band’s departure from the tour and their break up. Except Trevor doesn’t call it a break up. Instead ‘hiatus’ replaces the word, but Isak knows it all means the same thing.

 

At 7am they leave for home without Jonas. Isak assumes he’s taken a bus back into the city, and he almost does the same because taking the tour bus back home with tension heavy in the air makes him feel sick.

 

At 9am Isak is standing outside their building. When he walks back into their flat, Isak realizes Jonas’s things are gone. It’s after he walks into their living room does he notice Jonas’s drums, cased and sitting in the middle of the room. 

 

Jonas left behind his drums, and he left behind Isak.

 

***

 

He tries not to think about it, but with Jonas’s things still randomly scattered around their apartment it’s hard not to.  So he spends most days locked in his room or wondering around the corridors of his university. Anything that will delay his return back to their empty place.

 

He thinks he’s coping well, at least well enough to keep himself functioning. That doesn’t mean he still isn’t sending Jonas long sloppy text messages, and checking his phone every time it vibrates just to see if it’s Jonas.

 

But, it never is.

 

He understands Jonas needs his space, but between the unread messages and unanswered calls, he thinks Jonas doesn’t just want space. He wants complete isolation.

 

With everything so muddled with Jonas, he doesn’t have time to think about Even. Especially since it seems to be Even who doesn’t have the time to text him back. 

 

***

 

Four days pass, and he still hasn’t heard from Jonas (or Even).

 

He’s busy pulling mail out of the small grey mail box downstairs in their lobby, when he hears someone call his name. He almost drops the packages in his hands when they call for him again, this time closer and louder. He spins around to see their landlord, smiling in front of him. He instantly recognizes the yellow t-shirt he has on. He has one exactly like it in his closet, Jonas gave it to him months ago.

 

“How’s Jonas?” He asks, “Haven’t seen him in a while. Busy with the band, I suppose.” He chuckles.

 

Isak tears his eyes off the shirt and forces a smile on his face.

 

“Yea, he’s so busy, I haven’t even seen much of him either.”

 

It’s not exactly a lie, but he doesn’t have the energy to come up with something better. Nor does he want his landlord to see him cry.

 

“Tell him, I said hi, will you? And let him know, the next time he’s in town, I’ll come to their show.”

 

Isak laughs, feeling the tears beginning to sting in the corner of his eyes, “We’ll make sure you’re on the list.”

 

“I’ll be there.” He promises before he continues down the hallway.

 

Isak waits until he can hear the door to his office close before he swallows the sob wrenching it’s way up his throat.

 

He doesn’t cry. At least not until he’s back inside their room, and he opens the package and finds half a dozen drumsticks with  _ In Tunes _ printed in dark cursive on every one of them.

 

That’s when he cries, a lot.

 

***

 

Isak doesn’t think he’s stopped crying since he’s gotten home. It’s as if every time he thinks of Jonas, he can’t hold himself together. Like when he finds their old plastic ear plugs hidden in between the sofa’s cushions or when he sees the wrinkled ticket stubs from shows they’ve gone together to stuck on their refrigerator. 

 

Even though Jonas isn’t there, Isak sees him in every part of their apartment, and it only makes feel lonelier. And emptier.

 

Empty enough that he tries to fill himself with dark alcohol and cheap weed, and it takes him ten days to realize that it’s not filling him, it’s depleting him. 

 

Between Jonas ignoring his calls and trying to pretend like Even doesn’t exist, Isak feels like his entire world is crumbling down, but he doesn’t feel like piecing it back together until Magnus comes pounding on his door.

 

“You like like shit” is the first thing he blurts out when Isak opens the door.

 

He almost slams it shut when he spots the box Magnus has tucked underneath his arm.

 

“Jonas asked me to pick up a few things.” Magnus explains when he catches Isak eyeing it. 

 

“You’ve talked to him?”

 

“He’s finally answering my calls.” Magnus tells him, “you know he’s at his parent’s place, right?”

 

Isak hadn’t known, but he should have. Aside from the band and Isak, they’re the only ones Jonas has. He can only imagine how much shit his family is giving him for this failed tour. It’s probably not making anything easier for him.

 

“How is he?” Isak finally asks.

 

Magnus purses his lips, and Isak wonders if he’s trying to mind his feelings or if Jonas warned him not to.

 

“He still pretty mad.” Magnus explains.

 

“What did he say?”

 

“That he’s still not coming back.”

 

“Is that all?”

 

Magnus ducks his head looking in the hallway before he sighs, “Can we go in?”

 

Magnus follows him inside, sitting the box on Isak’s counter. 

 

“He wanted to know how long we knew.” Magnus begins.

 

“Did you tell him?”

 

“I had to. He needed to know, Isak.”

 

As much as Isak wants to be mad and argue with Magnus, he knows he’s right.

 

“Is he still mad at everyone?”

 

“I don’t think so.” Magnus shakes his head, “At least not at us, but I don’t think he’s mad at you either.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Because he loves you.”

 

Isak breath hitches. “What?” He chokes out.

 

“Remember when I told you about Jonas talking about you when he was drunk?”

 

Isak only nods.

 

“That’s what he said.” Magnus shrugs, “He said he loved you.” Magnus repeats, but hearing it for the second time doesn’t make it any easier to deal with or believe.

 

“We’ve been best friends since high school, so.” Isak tries to explain.

 

“It’s not some highschool crush, Isak. It’s serious--he’s serious.”

 

“But we just started dating.” Isak mumbles aloud.

 

“For real, right?”

 

Isak eyes jump up, “W-What.” He stutters.

 

“I know.” Magnus says, “I know you guys were pretending to date because Jonas thought you had to. And that it was Jonas who wanted to make it something more.”

 

“How?” Isak almost shouts.

 

“You know there’s really nothing to do, but drink and spill your secrets when you’re stuck on a tour bus for six hours.”

 

Isak internally winces because he knows how Jonas gets when he drinks, all loose lipped and quick tongued. All Magnus would have to do is bring up Isak while he’s refilling whatever’s in Jonas’s cup, and Jonas would go on all night.

 

“Is that all he said?” Isak clears his throat.

 

“He was worried that you weren’t happy, and that it was going to ruin your guys’ friendship.”

 

“Did he say why he thought that?”

 

“Something about you taking a long time to answer him. He wasn’t sure if it was something you really wanted.” Magnus pauses before he asks, “Was it?”

 

“I don’t know.” Isak admits, “I think so.”

 

“I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to be. You either want it or you don’t. But if you don’t, you need to tell Jonas that.”

 

“How can I tell Jonas that, Magnus? If I do, I don’t know if I’ll be telling the truth. And if I don’t, Jonas will never speak to me again.”

 

“So does that mean you know what you’re going to tell him what are you going to tell him then?”

 

“I don’t think he’ll even listen to me.” Isak says, “Do you think he will?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Do you think he’s ready to hear it?”

 

“I don’t know.” Magnus repeats.

 

“Do you know anything?” Isak shouts in annoyance.

 

“I know that maybe you’re not ready to admit it.” Magnus says, “And” He picks it back up, “I know you two had a thing with Even. Which makes total sense now. You guys left together and whenever you two disappeared, so did Even, and Even-” Magnus begins to ramble on.

 

“Okay, okay.” Isak stops him, “I get it, you know everything.”

 

“Not everything.” Magnus laughs, “I don’t know how Jonas found out.”

 

“Me either.” Isak says, and it’s the first time they’ve agreed on something all night.

 

Isak stay quiet as Magnus’s phone vibrates in his pocket. As he’s typing away, Isak swallows his pride.

 

“So, how is everyone?” He nervously asks.

 

“Bored.” Magnus chuckles, “It’s weird now. That was our entire life. I’ve been with that band even before it was a band, back when it was just them getting high in Even’s place playing crappy Blink-182 covers. It’s like our lives have stopped and we don’t know what to do now.”

 

“But what are you guys going to do?”

 

Magnus shrugs, “Maybe go back to school.”

 

Isak laughs because he just can’t picture Noora behind a desk or Mahdi in a library.  He can’t even imagine Chris on a campus, let alone Magnus taking notes in an actual classroom.

 

“All of you?” Isak asks, and he hopes Magnus doesn't make him ask about him, specifically.

 

“I’m not sure. I haven’t talked to Even yet.”

 

“Oh.” Isak mumbles.

 

“Have you?”

 

Isak quickly shakes his head.

 

“No one has. Sana said he hasn’t been home.”

 

“Oh.” Isak repeats.

 

“Well.” Magnus forces out a smile, “it’ll work out. Eventually.”

 

Even though Magnus tries to sound optimistic, Isak can see right through it. Magnus doesn’t know what’s going to happen, but neither does Isak, especially now that Jonas and Even are ignoring him.

 

“So.” Isak clears his throat, moving on, “What did Jonas want you to pick up?”

 

“Just some of his books, shoes, and his laptop charger.”

 

“Not his drums?” Isak asks.

 

The smiles falters on Magnus’s face, “He said he didn’t want them anymore.”

 

“Do you think he’s really serious about quitting the band?”

 

“I think so.” Magnus says quietly, “At least for right now.”

 

Isak nods slowly. He looks at the box once before he gets an idea.

 

“I can take Jonas’s stuff over to him, if you want. I know where all his stuff is and where his parents live, so it’d be a lot easier.”

 

“I don’t know.” Magnus stammers, “Jonas asked me to come when you weren’t here, so I don’t think he wants you to be the one to bring it back to him.”

 

“Please.” Isak begs, “I promise, I’ll leave if he asks me to.”

 

“I don't know, Isak, but I think it’s still too early.”

 

“You just told me I should talk to him, and It’s been 10 days.” Isak reminds him, “I just need to see him.”

 

“But he just started talking to _me_ again.”

 

“Okay.” Isak gives up, “it’s too soon.”

 

Magnus stares at the box before he sighs, “He’s going to hate me, but okay.”

 

“Thank you!” Isak hugs him.

 

“Ew.” Magnus shoves him off, “No offense, Isak, but when’s the last time you showered. You smell worse than the guys on tour.

 

Isak laughs, ignoring Magnus’s disgruntled noise when he hugs him tighter.

 

It’s the first time in ten days he’s felt like this, hopeful.

 

***

 

The box sits heavy in Isak’s hands when he shows up on Jonas’s doorstop, uninvited. When Jonas opens the door and find it’s Isak not Magnus, he tries to slam it shut. Fortunately, Isak’s foot catches between the frame, stopping him.

 

“Jonas, please.” Isak pleads.

 

He shoves the box in view like it’s peace offering. Except the way Jonas is ignoring it, and looking at him like that, it doesn’t feels like that. Isak thinks Jonas is just going to have him drop it on the doorstep when he pushes the door open instead.

 

It’s been thirteen days since they’ve left tour, which means it’s been thirteen days since Jonas has talked to them. However, after he hears Jonas say “What do you want”, Isak almost thinks the silence was better.

 

He waits until his back’s turned and he’s dumping the box on their coffee table before he tries, “missed you.”

 

Jonas doesn’t say anything, so Isak goes on.   
  


“I’m really sorry, Jonas.”

 

Jonas still isn’t looking at him, and Isak wonders who it’s hurting more, him or Jonas.

 

“Jonas.” Isak tries to keep his voice from shaking, but that fails with the next thing he says, “Please.”

 

Finally Jonas turns around, and it’s the first time their eyes have met. He looks exhausted.

 

“Okay, Isak. Say what you have to say.” Jonas frowns.

 

“I wanted to tell you everything, I did.” His voice breaks, “but you were so happy and I didn’t want to be the reason you weren’t.”

 

“So you thought lying to me was the better choice?”

 

“There was no better choice, just one that was easier to do.”

 

“Easier for me, or easier for you?”

 

“You think that was easy for me, Jonas?” Isak yells back, “Because it’s not. And I can’t make that choice without hurting someone.” 

 

Jonas falls silent, staring at his feet, so Isak can’t see what he’s truly feeling.

 

“I didn’t know how you really felt until it was too late.”

 

“That doesn’t justify it, Isak.”

 

“I know.” Isak shakes his head, “I know, but you and I...When did you realize it?”

 

Jonas sighs, leaning onto the wall behind him, “In that motel bathroom after all the drama at the band competition.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yea. After you got hurt I knew.”

 

“Knew what?”

 

“that I never wanted to see you like that again.” Jonas admits, “And that’s what love is, isn’t it?”

 

Isak takes a step closer so he’s standing in front of Jonas. 

 

“Do you really love me?”

 

“You already know I do, Isak.”

 

The small space separating them becomes smaller and smaller as Isak moves closer. If his heart wasn’t beating so loudly, maybe he’d be able hear the thoughts rolling through his mind. All of them tell him the same thing: stop.

 

Except he doesn’t. Instead he wraps his arm around Jonas’s neck, threading his fingers through the back of his hair.

 

“We can go back to the way things were. And pretend like it never happened. I promise, Jonas.” Isak almost begs.

 

“I won’t mess it up this time.” Isak continues frantically, “I promise.”

 

Jonas doesn’t have time to respond because Isak’s kissing him, hard and desperate, clutching on his shoulders like Jonas is going to disappear if he doesn’t hold him close enough.

 

As he’s kissing Jonas, he thinks that maybe it could work. Magnus was wrong, he could learn to make it work. Jonas deserves it. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt, especially by Isak. He keeps kissing Jonas, and he thinks Jonas is going to give in when the hands on his hips are pushing him back, not pulling him in.

 

“Isak, stop.” Jonas yells, pushing them even further apart.

 

Jonas’s rejection stings deep, but Isak think he deserves it.

 

“I don’t want that.” Jonas goes on, “And neither do you.”

 

“I can.” Isak tries to tell him, “I just need some time.”

 

Jonas shakes his head.

 

“I want to make it work. For you”

 

When Isak takes a step forward, Jonas matches it.

 

“Stop, Isak.” this time it’s Jonas that sounds like he’s pleading, “Stop saying that.”

 

“Then tell me what you want me to say.” Isak gives in.

 

“Just tell me the truth.” Jonas sighs, “When did it start?”

 

“After he punched Nikolai at In The Park.” Isak finally admits, guilt creeping under his skin when he sees Jonas glare at the floor, fighting the frown he wants to show.

 

“And then after Eva’s birthday, but I swear Jonas those were the only times anything happened.”

 

Jonas’s eyebrows screw together, “that hickey you said I gave you, that was him, wasn’t it?”

 

Isak only nods, the shame knotting in his throat.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, “I asked you, if anything was going on, and you lied to me. Why?”

 

“Because.” Isak’s voice shakes, “I didn’t know what to do. Even wasn’t going to leave Sonja, and I couldn’t say no to you, Jonas.”

 

“Would you have, for him?” Jonas asks, sneering as he says it.

 

“I don’t know.” Isak admits, and he feels bad for saying it.

 

“So you only said yes because he said no?”

 

When Isak nods, Jonas moves across the room. 

 

“I guess, it’s my fault, anyway.” Jonas shrugs, “I started it. I just thought if I let you have him, you’d want me too.”

 

“I’m sorry” is all Isak can say, so he says it, again.

 

“Does he know?”

 

“I haven’t talked you him.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I needed to talk to you first.”

 

“Are you going to?” Jonas asks, but Isak noticies the discomfort Jonas looks to be in as he asks it.

 

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.” Isak offers.

 

Jonas laughs lightly, “thanks.”

 

They fall into a comfortable silence when Isak remembers the drums still sitting in their empty apartment.

 

“What are you gonna do about the band?”

 

“I’m done with it.” Jonas answers, “it’s not too late to enroll for next semester, so I’ll probably just work until then.”

 

“What?” Isak shouts.

 

“What?” Jonas says it right back.

 

“Why are you doing this?”

 

“The band’s over, Isak. Trevor said we’d never be able to get signed again.” Jonas explains, “Even if I wanted to go back, they’d never let me back in, I ruined it.”

 

“No one blames you.” Isak quickly assures him, “They all quit the band because you did.”

 

“Still.” Jonas shrugs, “I don’t think it’s ever going to happen.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Mahdi told me Trevor finally got Even to go solo.”

 

“Why would he do that?” Isak chokes out.

 

“Music’s always come first to Even. When will you realize that?”

 

This time it’s Isak that falls silent, in realization.

 

“I’m sorry.” Jonas apologizes.

 

“It’s alright.” Isak shrugs it off, “Sometimes the people you love aren’t the people you end up with.”

 

“Love?” Jonas catches it.

 

“I know.” Isak says, “too soon.”

 

“Sorry.” Jonas falls back into the couch, “It’s just, this is a lot harder than I thought it’d be.”

 

Isak chuckles, tucking his knees into his chest, “it’s always going to be like this now, isn’t it?”

 

“Hopefully not.” Jonas says, “you’re still my best friend.”

 

“You too.” Isak smiles, “I’m sorry that’s all we could be.”

 

Jonas smiles too, ruffling his hand through Isak’s hair, “I think it’s all we need to be.”

 

***

 

It’s four days later, and only one since Jonas moved back in that Jonas brings up. It creeps up in their conversation as Jonas is unpacking his things.

 

“Have you talked to Even?” He asks as he’s pushing socks into a drawer.

 

Isak glances up from his textbook, “Not yet. Why?”

 

“Because he called me.”

 

“What did he want?” Isak says, his words coming out way too quickly.

 

“I don’t know.” Jonas shrugs, “I didn’t answer. I haven't talked to him since tour.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Jonas doesn’t answer him, but he glances at him with one eyebrow raised. So, Isak understands exactly what he means. However, Jonas lets that conversation die when he begins talking about something Isak can’t keep up with.

 

“Why would Even call you, but not me?” Isak suddenly blurts out, interrupting Jonas’s story.

 

“I don’t know, Isak.” Jonas tries to brush it off, “Maybe it’s just taking him sometime.”

 

“How much time does he need?”

 

***

 

Isak spends an entire day trying to answer that question until it finally forces him down to Even’s place. He knows Even won’t be there, but he still finds himself knocking on his door, hoping he will be.

 

“Hi.” Sana greets him, but it comes out more as a question than a welcoming.

 

“Is Even here?” He asks.

 

“No.” Sana tells him.

 

Disappointment still settles in Isak’s stomach even though he had prepared for it.

 

“Oh.” He murmurs, “Will you let him know I stopped by?”

 

Sana smiles softly, “Sure.”

 

As he turns to walk away, Sana calls back for him, “He’s with his parents. He goes there whenever things get too overwhelming.”

 

“Is he okay?”

 

“He is.” Sana nods, “But Sonja broke things off this time. For good.”

 

“Oh.” Isak answers, fighting the smile curling up in the corners of his mouth.

 

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

 

“No, but I’m sure you’ll be the first to know.”

 

A part of him doesn’t believe it, but he has to. If he doesn’t, it’ll be like everything he’s done has been for nothing.

 

***

 

However it’s beginning to feel like that when Isak realizes it’s been three weeks since he’s talked to Even. He grows more impatient as Jonas spends less time at their home and more at work. 

 

He still doesn’t know what that entails, but whatever it is has Jonas gone all hours of the day. But Isak doesn’t question it because he notices Jonas’s drums have finally stopped collecting dust.

 

***

 

Slowly things seem to be getting better. He thinks normality has finally returned to their lives when Isak answers the door expecting Jonas, but it’s someone else.

 

“Jonas isn’t here” is the first thing Isak gets out when she appears on their door stop a day later.

 

“Good.” She nods, “I was hoping he wouldn’t be when we finally got to talk about this.”

 

Isak feels himself tense up when she steps in side, taking a look around before she settles onto their sofa.

 

“Where are Jonas’s drums?” She asks, glancing at the spot they’re usually in. Now there’s nothing left of them, but the permanent pressed dents from the kit’s stands in their carpet.

 

“He’s kind of in between things right now.” Isak answers.

 

He knows this is Sonja’s attempt at small talk, so he answers anyway if it means it’ll delay whatever has brought her over.

 

“That’s unfortunate.” She sighs, “He’s good.”

 

“Yea.” Isak agrees, “At least our neighbors will hate us a little less now.”

 

Sonja laughs lightly, before she’s clearing her throat. That’s all it takes before Isak realizes this is where it starts.

 

“So.” She starts slowly, “I don’t hate you, you know.”

 

“You don’t?” Isak wouldn’t believe her, but she looks so genuine that it’s hard not to.

 

“No.” She shakes her head, “How can I? You made him happy.”

 

Even after hearing Sonja tell him that, Isak doesn’t know how to feel.

 

“I haven’t seen him like that in a long time.”

 

“So, you’re not mad?”

 

“I was.” She admits, “but not because Even was with you, but because he was using me so he didn’t have to be with you.”

 

This time Isak knows how to feel. Sonja must notice his face fall because she quickly follows it up.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that. He wants to be with you, but do you know how hard it is to make it out there?”

 

“And you were helping?”

 

“That wasn’t the only reason we were together.” She says, “I know that’s what it seemed like, but there’s a lot you don’t know.”

 

“Even told me some of it.”

 

“He told me some things too.”

 

“You knew?”

 

“Not all of it, but you guys weren't exactly subtle about some things.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Isak immidaelty blurts out,“But if you knew, why didn’t you break things off?”

 

“Becuase Even was happy. And it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him look like that. After I cheated, I knew we were over. I knew even before I did.”

 

“Then why pretend like it wasn’t?”

 

“When I took that record deal, I didn’t just leave the band behind, I left Even too. So, I owed him.”

 

“So he used  _ you _ ?”

 

“No, this is coming out wrong.” Sonja sighs, “What I meant was, I knew if we were together--or people at least thought we were--I could help him. He knew it, and I think he felt like he owed to the band to do it.”

 

“Why? He didn’t leave the band, he stayed.”

 

“I know, but he felt like it was because of him the record deal didn’t go to the entire band. So, he did everyhing he could, and I helped. I just jwanted him to make it. He deserves it, don’t you think?”

 

Isak nods, because out of everyone, Even does.

 

That band is his entire life. He’d do anything for it.”

 

“Even stay with me if that’s what he had to do.” She adds, a little softer.

 

“I thought that’s what he wanted.” Isak asks remembering Vilde’s drunken confession.

 

“Technically, but no one says no to Trevor.”

 

“Is that why Even’s solo now that the band is over?”

 

“What?” Sonja’s face screws up in confusion, “Who told you that?”

 

“Mahdi.” Isak answers.

 

“Even hasn’t gone solo.” She says, “He’s trying to get the band back together.”

 

Isak can’t gets words to come out after that. Jonas hasn’t said anything, but now Isak realizes him disappearing for hours finally makes sense.

 

“How?” Isak finally musters out, “Trevor’s going to take them back?”

 

“Trevor?” Sonja laughs, but Isak doesn't realize the joke.

 

“No, they’re working with someone else. Someone Sana knows.”

 

“But if the band’s back together, does that mean Even’s back.”

 

“Even’s been back since last week.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“He hasn’t tried to call you?”

 

“No.”

 

Sonja tries to smile, “He’s probably been really busy.”

 

“Does Jonas know?”

 

“Jonas has been taking meetings with him. He hasn't told you?”

 

Isak shakes his head slowly, the feeling worsening because he remembers the look on Jonas’s face when he told him he hadn’t talked to Even since that night on their bus.

 

“Hey.” Sonja says when she notices Isak’s thoughts pulling a frown onto his face, “He’ll talk to you when he’s ready. Just take some time, and think about it before he does.”

 

“What do you think I should do?”

 

“You should do whatever feels right.” She smiles, “being with Even can be a lot to go through, but he’s worth it. And I know he thinks you are too.”

 

 

It’a then Isak realizes that it’s not just Jonas he hurt, it was Sonja too.

 

“I really am sorry you had to find out like this.” He apologizes, “At least it was Even who told you.”

 

“Even didn’t tell me.”

 

“I thought that’s how Jonas found out.”

 

“It wasn’t me who told.” She says, “It was Eva. I thought you knew that.”

 

“No.” Isak answers, “I thought you did. That’s why you broke up with Even.”

 

“I broke up with Even because I was tired of holding him back from what he wanted most.”

 

Her eyes land on Isak, and it goes unsaid, but Isak knows she’s letting him know what the sentence left off.

 

“Wit that,” Sonja whispers, “I should go.”

 

“Good luck, Isak.” She wishes him before she lets herself out.

 

With the new information, Isak’s left in shock.

 

Why would Eva tell?

 

He doesn't have long to question it because it’s not long after Sonja leaves that Jonas returns.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me the band was back together?” Isak shouts immediately after Jonas walks through the door.

 

Jonas jumps, taken back by Isak’s anger.

 

“Because nothing was final yet.” Jonas tries to explain.

 

“And when you told me you hadn’t see Even since August, what was that?”

 

“He asked me not to.”

 

“What the fuck, Jonas?”

 

“Isak, we’re trying to fix this band. I can’t deal with this. I can’t let you mess things up again.”

 

When Jonas’s mouth hangs open like even he can’t believe he said it, Isak knows he didn’t mean to. Sure, he’s thinking it, they’re all thinking it, but hearing Jonas say it aloud still hurts.

 

“Isak.” Jonas says reaching forward.

 

Isak pulls his arms back, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible.

 

“That’s not what I meant.”

 

“Yes it was.” Isak argues, “It’s what you’ve been thinking this entire time.”

 

“No.” Jonas yells, “it’s not.”

 

“Then why would you say it?”

 

“Because I’m still not used to this. And you throwing yourself at Even isn’t making it any easier.”

 

“I’m sorry, Jonas.”

 

“Me too. Everytime I think I’m fine with it, I’m not. So, I’m sorry if I’m not in a hurry to tell you everything that’s going on.”

 

“I’m not asking you to be, Jonas.” Isak mumbles, “I just don’t want you to go on silently hating me.”

 

“I don’t hate you, Isak.” Jonas laughs, “And that’s sort of the problem.”

 

“Then why are you hiding things from me?”

 

“I told you. Even asked me no to.”

 

“Have you guys talked about me?”

 

“Not really.” Jonas confesses, “Just what needed to be said, and what I’ve already told you.”

 

“Has he said anything else about me?”

 

“Isak.” Jonas groans.

 

“Okay.” Isak gives up, “I get it. I’ll stop asking about him.”

 

***

 

Isak keeps his promise, and it’s as if there place is an Even-free zone, until Tuesday night.

 

It’s 3 am when his phone wakes him up. When  _ Even  _ painfully flashes brightly across his screen, he feels like he might actually be dreaming. But the shrieking ringtone hurting his sleepy ears lets him know he’s not.

 

When he answers it, Isak doesn’t say anything at first, but he can hear heavy breathing coming through on the other line.

 

“Hello?” He hears his voice tremble.

 

“Isak?” Even answers.

 

Isak holds his breath, unable to say anything else. That’s all it takes. He hasn’t heard that voice in so long that he’s almost forgotten how great it sounds, even if it is deluded with alcohol.

 

“Say something, please.” Even’s words slur together, “fuck, I just miss hearing your voice.”

 

“Then why haven’t you called, Even? It’s been a month.”

 

“I’m sorry.” His words spew out, “I couldn’t. You deserve so much better.”

 

“How can you say that?”

 

“Because I know.”

 

“And what about what I know.”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I’ve ruined it all.”

 

“That’s not true.”

 

“Yes it is. Remember when you said we weren’t in love?”

 

“I was just angry Even. I was wrong.”

 

“You were wrong. Because I think I was. I think I was in love with you. And now..”

 

“And what about now?”

 

“I’m working on it.”

 

“Working on what?”

 

Before Isak gets his answer the phone clicks dead, and he stays up replaying the conversation, waiting for Even to call him back. Except Even doesn’t and he’s more confused than ever.

 

***

 

When Isak wakes up the next morning, the unread message on his phone makes him jump awake. Except to his disappointment, it’s not from Even, it’s from Magnus.

 

_ Isak  _

_ WAKE UP _

 

When he doesn’t reply fast enough, another message comes:

 

_ Radio 9.98 fm _

_ why?? _

_ Just do it _

_ NOW _

  
  


Isak stumbles out into Jonas’s car, flipping through static and stations until he finally gets to it. He turns up the dial, not knowing what to expect. When the voice comes through the speakers, he almost jumps out of the van.

 

“We’re here with In Tunes, the newest up and coming punk band that’s taking over the station tonight. It’s a pleasure to have you guys here."

 

“Thank you! It’s great to be here. We’ve never been on radio before.” Mahdi nervously chuckles.

 

“Why don’t you guys introduce yourselves then, and let the listeners know who you are?”

 

“Hi, I’m Even. I sing and play the guitar.”

 

“I’m Noora, I play the keyboard.”

 

“I’m Chris, and I play the bass.”

 

“I’m Mahdi and I play the electric guitar.”

 

“I’m Jonas and I play the drums.”

 

“It’s great to have you guys here today. I understand we’ll be hearing one of the newest tracks you have. So does that mean there’s an album we should be looking out for?”

 

“Yes!” Noora answers, “It’s out first real album, and it’s coming out in two weeks!”

 

“Well congratulations!” the radio caster laughs, “So what will you guys be playing today?”

 

“It’s a song called Honey and I hope you like it.” Even says just as it quiets down.

 

The music starts, but Isak’s breathing stops.

 

It’s his song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading!  
> 


	16. Twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end! I want to thank everyone who read, commented and tweeted about this fic! It’s been so fun and I hope you all enjoyed it! My heart is so full and warm whenever I think about all the support/love I’ve received from this fic! I love you all so much! Thank you all for sticking with it, despite the extremely long update gaps, bad grammar, and poor editing! haha It’s been a wild ride and it’s bittersweet to see it end! But, I want to take a little time to remind people to be a little kinder to the people who write these fics. Please understand that we see almost everything that gets said about us, and it’s not cool to put down someone else’s writing just because you personally don’t like it. And it’s not okay to harass fic authors.  
> Moving on from the serious stuff, there’s really nothing to say but: be nice to people, don’t start poly relationships with someone you might fall in love with, stay away from guys in bands, and support your local bands.
> 
> with so so so so much love and humility, goodbye!! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p.s this chapter may seem really chunky but I wanted it to seem erratic because that's how it feels to be in a long distance relationship, they're messy, hence the messiness of this chapter.
> 
> also italics are text messages.  
> (haven't thoroughly edited this (like always) but I will!)  
> song inspo: Just another night on mars by the maine & young dumb& broke by khalid and ofc twice by catfish and the bottlemen

Isak clicks the radio off as soon as the song ends, but the melody still haunts his mind as he sits in silence.

 

_ I thought you were going to call it something else:  _ Isak deletes that text before he’s even finished typing it out.

 

_ You can’t just write a song for me and expect me to forgive you:  _ Isak almost sends that one, but in the end, he doesn’t.

 

_ I miss your voice too,  _ that one sits in his text bar far too long, but it doesn’t get sent either.

 

Half a dozen versions of the same text get typed out and deleted before Isak gets the courage to send one.

 

_ heard the song _

_ What do you think? _

_ It’s shit _

***

“Isak.” Jonas calls out, kicking off his shoes into the small mountain they have growing by their door. When he walks further into their place, he finds Isak inside the kitchen, hunched over a pot on the stove, “Do you wanna talk about it?” Jonas asks timidly.

 

Isak busies himself with the pasta he’s stirring, so he doesn’t have to answer.

 

“We don’t have to, I just figured you’d want to. Since it’s your song.”

 

“It’s not my song.” Isak tries to argue.

 

_ “ _ It’s not  _ my  _ song.” Jonas attempts to joke _ , _ but Isak doesn’t seem to find it amusing.

 

“Can we not talk about this!” Isak begins to yell, without even glancing up from the pot he’s staring into.

 

“Then what do you want to talk about?” He hears Jonas sigh.

 

“I don’t know!” Isak throws his hands up, “Maybe about how you didn’t even tell me you had a radio interview! Or that you have an album coming out!”

 

When Jonas doesn’t respond fast enough, Isak snaps, “He asked you not to, didn’t he?”

 

“No.” Jonas tells him, “I was going to tell you,  swear, but I haven’t been home, and I just forgot.”

 

“Oh.” Isak whispers.

 

“I’m sorry.” Jonas apologizes.

 

“Can we stop.” Isak says, dropping the cutlery on the counter, “Can we just top apologizing to each other, I’m so tired of saying sorry all the time.”

 

“Okay, Isak.” Jonas laughs, “From now on, no more apologizing.”

 

“And no more talking about him.” Isak adds.

 

Jonas seems surprised, “Isak?” 

 

“It’s fine, Jonas. I know you don’t want to talk about it anyway.” He says quickly and harshly.

 

“I don’t mind.” Jonas lies, leaning against the door frame when Isak spins around to look at him.“

 

“Well, I do.” Isak huffs out a hollow and humourless laugh, “So, drop it.”

***

Except, Jonas doesn’t, in fact, drop it. He picks it up and pushes it on until Isak can’t even hold a conversation that doesn’t involve Even with him anymore.

 

It’s expected. He’s in Even’s band, he sees him more than he sees Isak most weeks. 

 

“You know everyone’s been asking where you’ve been.” Jonas casually says as they’re walking downtown. Isak doesn’t know how Jonas managed to talk him into coming along to the music shop. Especially since Jonas is shopping for a new drum kit.

 

“Yea?” Isak says

 

“Yea.” Jonas presses on, “They’re hoping to see you at the release party.”

 

“I don’t know, Jonas.” Isak begins to say, ready to spit out an excuse when Jonas becomes distracted by an aisle of shiny new drums set up on the racks.

 

He’s grateful when Jonas becomes lost in the instruments, too busying banging on the drums to finish the conversation he started with Isak. However, he quickly becomes less grateful when he finds himself stuck following Jonas around the store. There’s a plethora of instruments surrounding them, but Jonas spends probably three hours in the percussion elise, alternating between the same four drum kits. He stares frustradly as he tries to decide between the set with “two extra cymbals” or the one with “extra tom drum.”

 

“What do you think?” Jonas asks as he tears his eyes away from the instruments.

 

Isak looks at him, dumbly. He doesn't even know what a tom drum, let alone anything else Jonas says. Still he looks at the kit, eyes widening when he sees the price of it, “Jonas, this one costs like $800!”

 

“The band’s kind of big now, Isak.” Jonas laughs, the price unpausing him, “And I need a new set of drums, my old ones are dull.”

 

Of course they’re dull, they came from a second hand store six months ago, Isak thinks.

 

“Plus.” Jonas adds, “Our album release party is coming up, I want something nice.”

 

Isak swallows thickly, hoping Jonas won’t pick up their conversation.

 

“And you’re coming to that by the way.” Jonas nods like it’s a demand and not an invitation

 

“We’ll see.” Isak laughs anxiously, knowing he’s not going to go anyway, but he doesn’t think that it’s best time to tell Jonas that. Instead he claps his hands, looking back at the drums, “You should get the black ones, they look really cool.”

 

“You think?” Jonas asks looking at the same kit, running his finger over the top curve of the snare drum.

 

Isak turns to look at the extension pieces next to it, picking up one of the tambourines in the box.

 

“And you should get this too.” Isak says, giving the instrument a small shake.

 

“A tambourine?” Jonas laughs, reaching for it, “only girlfriends play those.”

 

Isak scoffs shaking it some more, laughing loudly with Jonas until the guy behind the counter gives them a sharp look. They apologize silently, putting the tambourine down in embarrassment.

 

“I think I’m going to get the black ones.” Jonas finally decides.

***

The drums get delivered early on a Thursday morning. He finds out while he’s midway through a lecture when Jonas texts him like it’s an emergency.  _ Come and help me _ , he reads when a blurry picture of the large boxes sitting in their living room comes along with it.

 

He finishes his classes before he rushes home. Once he’s finally in, he finds Jonas surrounded in broken strephon and half popped bubble wrap.

 

“Finally!” He yells when he sees Isak coming down their hallway, “These instructions are impossible.

  
“That’s because you don’t read them in the right order. You can’t just skip through the ones you don’t want to read.” Isak mutters, falling onto his knees to meet Jonas on the floor.

 

“Just look!” Jonas tries to argue pushing the the booklet in his hands. 

 

The strips of clean metal and shiny vinyl under plastic makes his eyes go wide. Even Isak feels the anticipation and excitement as he begins to cut open the boxes encasing the pieces.

 

As Jonas sits next to him, he begins flipping through the small book of instructions Jonas is ignoring. 

 

They’ve just begun to put up the crash symbol when Jonas looks up, “You are going to come to our album release party, right?” Jonas checks in as he’s screwing the metal down. 

 

“When is it?” Isak asks glancing through pages, making sure they’re doing it correctly. He’s trying to keep his voice flat like he isn’t about to turn down Jonas’s invitation again.  

 

Jonas answers with an annoyed “Tomorrow”. He’s been reminding Isak since he found out, telling him all about the producers and artists who are suppose to show up.

 

“You are coming right?” Jonas asks again, flipping over a floor tom in his hands, the larger one sits next to him, still wrapped in clean bubble wrap.

 

“I don’t think so, I have a stats exam I really need to study for.” Isak tries to brush it off with an excuse as he begins to flip to the section in the guide book for the metals stands it rests on. It’s the first time he’s given Jonas a clear answer.

 

“Isak.” Jonas gives him unbelieving look as he begins to screw in the pegs it stands on, “You’re really going to to keep ignoring him forever, aren’t you?”

 

He sees right through Isak’s lie, so Isak doesn’t bother to lie even more, “Not forever.” Isak shrugs, watching the legs begin to form under it, “Just until you guys leave for tour.”

 

“You really think they’d let us go on tour again?” Jonas laughs, tapping on the head once he has it set up.

 

Isak picks up the second tom drum, handing it to Jonas before he answers, “Because it went so well the last time.” Isak teases, beginning to pop some of the bubble wrap.

 

“Hey!” Jonas leans over to punch his arm. He still has a screwdriver and part of the stand in his hands as he does. “We could have made it if we hadn’t decided to go on break.”

 

He’s twisting the shell of it when Isak looks up from the bubble wrap he’s half way through, “Jonas, you guys got in a fight the first month of tour.”

 

“Well.” Jonas huffs, the argument already dying, “Are you coming or not?”

 

Jonas is staring at him, waiting for answer. Except Isak can’t give him one, at least not the one he wants.

 

“I can’t.” He forces out, eyes dropping to the floor.

 

He knows how much this means for Jonas, how much it means for all of them, but he doesn’t think he can see Even. Not now, not when things between him and Jonas are finally back to normal. Now that he’s no longer flinching every time his phone goes off, hoping it’s not Even.

 

“Please.” Jonas tries, “It’d mean alot to me if you were there.”

 

“Jonas, there’s going to be so many people there, you probably won’t even know I’m there.”

 

It’s not like Jonas doesn’t know this. They’ve just released their first single, and it’s already surpassed from local channels to national ones. Which inevitably leads it to become this summer’s most overplayed “hit single” that seems to plague every radio Isak walks by. 

 

They’re getting bigger, big enough that Jonas gets noticed at least twice every time they make it into town. And even though he tells Isak it makes him late every time they stop him, he knows Jonas loves it. Loves the way they ask for pictures and compliment his band and his skill, and subtly flirt with him, even if Isak is standing right there. It makes him feel like a rockstar, and Isak’s never seen him more happy.

 

Isak can feel it, even now that he and Jonas are continuing to set up his drum set. But it’s different. He used to feel like he was in on everything. Now, Jonas spends almost all his time with his band, and the quick moments he’s with Isak, that’s all he talks about. It’s not like he’s not proud of his friend, but sometimes he thinks Jonas forgets who he was was before all of this.

 

“C’mon, Isak.” Jonas has resorted to begging, “Please, you’re my best friend.”

 

“That's not fair.” He murmurs.

 

“Is that a yes?” Jonas begins to smile, knowing his guilt trip has Isak caving.

 

“I’ll go.” Isak finally gives in, “only for an hour, then I’m gone.”

 

Jonas flashes a bright smile as he hops over the bass drum to tackle Isak onto the floor, hugging his friend tightly. A chorus of giggles and thank yous comes from Jonas while Isak struggles playfully to get out his grasp.

 

Isak laughs, pushing Jonas off of him as he places a wet kiss, high up on his cheek, “Thank you, Isak. And I promise, I’ll stay with the entire night.” Jonas tells him.

 

Isak rolls his eyes, knowing Jonas’s promise won’t stick once he’s there and around anyone who will talk to him about his band, but, nonetheless, Isak keeps his promise.

***

They dress in their nicest suits, which they realize when they get there, aren’t actually that nice. They’re celebrating in a small place downtown, but Isak doesn’t recognize anyone he’s being introduced to. They’re sound engineers, graphic designers, and producers and he doesn’t like to admit it, but he misses the days when “my boyfriend” was attached to his name.

 

The room is full of people and fans, revolving around a small makeshift stage in the center of the room. Jonas nudges his shoulder when he catches Isak staring at the door, looking at it like he’s ready to rush out through it.

 

“You promised.” Jonas reminds him, handing him a drink from their opened bar.

 

“I know.” He clears his throat, scanning the room--no Even, for now.

 

“What do you think?” Jonas asks, picking up one of the packaged albums they have lying on their tables. He knows Jonas is asking just so he can get Isak to stop staring, still Isak’s glad for the distraction.

 

Isak takes it from him, eyes glancing over the artwork until he flips it over, skimming over the tracklist.

 

“Open it.” Jonas tells him, “last page, bottom section.” He instructs waiting for Isak to flip through the small booklet.

 

“Okay.” Isak says unsure, popping open the plastic, flipping through the pages.

“Five years, 2 break ups, 1 new drummer, and half a tour later, we are releasing our first studio recorded album.” He begins to read, “Nothing would be possible without the love from everyone we have meet along the way. A humble thank you to our fans, who make everything better. And our record label, for believe in us after everything! Then, to the best manager a band could have, Vilde Lien, who kept the band alive, well dressed and on time--even if she was never on time herself. Along with Magnus Fossbakken who runs on more alcohol than actual blood sometimes. Eva Mohn who wrote the first article for our band, but now comes to every show. Eskild Tryggvason for letting us turn your flat, excluding Noora’s room, into MSG every night. Lastly, Isak Valtersen, for inspiring most of the tracks and increasing our street cred and pain capacity.  Thank you to all.”

 

Once he finishes, he stares at the words a little longer, tears pricking the corner of his eyes, “I thought this was a thank you, not a fucking uoligy.” He sniffles, thumbing away the water from his eyes.

 

Jonas laughs, putting an arm around Isak, “That’s tame! You’ve should have seen the first copy. We had to cut it down by about 200 words.”

 

“You all are such saps.” He tries to push Jonas away. Except he holds him tighter, laughing louder as Isak flips through the rest of the small album artwork. Pictures of their shows come on every page, and Isak freezes when the picture of he and Jonas at Jonas’s first show fills one of the pages.

 

“I forgot Vilde took this!” Isak gasps as he runs his finger over the silky page.

 

“You should see the one she has of us on page 7.” Jonas snorts, looking down at the booklet.

 

Quickly Isak flips the page, not knowing what he’ll find. He’s relieved when it’s just them in deep sleep, sprawled over the seats of their old van, “How?” is all he says.

 

“Vilde and Noora have so many embarrassing pictures of everyone, I don’t know how they do it.” Jonas laughs, “There’s a picture of all us laying in some parking lot, and I don’t even remember doing it.”

 

Isak does and he giggles at the memory of it. He looks at Jonas, his heart swelling with proudness as he takes the moment in, “This is amazing, Jonas.”

 

Jonas is about to say something when his eyes move off of Isak and onto something behind him. Isak slowly turns around expecting it to be Jonas’s bandmates, but it’s not. It’s his parents and sister standing near the doorway, looking around, probably for Jonas.

 

“I’m sorry.” Jonas begins to apologize, quickly moving onto his feet, “I’ll be right back, I’m sorry.” He rushes it out, quickly running to meet his parents. 

 

Isak wants to be angry at Jonas for leaving him alone, but Jonas looks like he’s a child who has just gained his parent’s attention as he begins to introduce them to the same people he had Isak met. He looks happy, standing there in between his parents as they finally realize what the band means to him.

 

“Isak?” He hears coming from behind him, and he doesn’t want to respond but the person steps closer, repeating his name, “Isak?”

 

He turns around to find the voice belongs to Noora.

 

“Hi.” She smiles, hugging him quickly, “How have you been?”

 

“Good.” Isak says, and it feels different talking to her after all this time, “How are you?”

 

They go through the quick brutally session of small talk before Noora’s asks him if he’s said hi to anyone else.

 

“Jonas and I just got here.” He lies.

 

“C’mon.” She takes his hand, “Everyone can’t wait to see you.”

 

“I don’t think-” Isak tries to resist, but Noora keeps pulling him with her, so his protests die mid-sentence.

 

They make their way through the room, out onto a patio set up in the backyard. There’s less people, and it'd usually make Isak feel at ease, but he knows he’s about to see the band he had almost broken up for the first time.

 

“Isak!” Mahdi shouts once he sees him. When he pulls Isak into a rib bruising hug, Isak can smell the alcohol on his breath.

 

“It’s good to see you too.” Isak says lowly, trying to look past Mahdi to see who else is waiting for him.

 

He hugs Vilde, Magnus, Sana and even Eva before he’s allowed to sit down. The tension and awkwardness he imagined he’d feel when he saw them isn’t there, not even when Eva smiles at him.

 

“Isak, please tell Magnus he doesn’t look bad in this photo.” Vilde giggles before she’s pushing one of the booklets in his face.

 

Isak looks down to the opened page, immediately laughing when he sees it’s opened up to a picture of Magnus drunkenly posing for the camera. Isak’s pretty sure he remembers alcohol being spilt on his shirt that night, but Isak can’t tell from the picture. Nonetheless, Magnus doesn't look bad, he looks gone. 

 

“I told you!” Magnus argues when he sees Isak snickering behind his hand.

 

“Isak!” Everyone yells like they had just convinced Magnus it wasn’t a bad picture and now Isak has confirmed it actually is.

 

“It’s not that bad.” Isak tries to reassure him, but Magnus brushes it off. He’s frowning unil Vilde throws her arms around him, pressing kisses onto his face until he smiles. Isak stares dumbly until Noora knocks an elbow into his side, “They’re like a thing now.”

 

“A thing?” Isak repeats, earning him a nod from Sana.

 

“It’s weird right?” Noora chuckles, “Sana and I saw them spit coffee into each other's mouth the other day.”

 

“I think they’re cute.” Eva smiles, “In a weird, disturbing way.”

 

“They’re good for eacother.” Sana adds, “Even if they make everyone else uncomfortable.”

 

Isak can only nod in agreement. In some strange way, they fit.

  
“Noora, Mahdi, We need you.” Some man calls over to them, “Have you seen Chris and Even?”

 

Noora and Mahdi quickly get up, quickly making their way over. Isak watches them rush inside. He still hasn’t seen Even, but he wonders how long that will remain true for.

 

“Hey, can we talk?” he hears Eva whisper to him.

 

Sana smiles understandably at both of them when they get up, Isak following Eva  nto the small empty space in the garden. 

 

“So.” She starts, taking a seat onto the small concrete bench, “I know you know it was me who told Jonas.”

 

“Sonja told me.” Isak nods, not bothering to pretend he knows differently.

 

“I’m sorry.” She quickly apologizes, “If I had known it’d break up the band and the tour and make Even and Jonas fight, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

 

“No offense, Eva, but what did you think was going to happen?”

 

“I dunno.” She sighs, “just that Jonas would break up with you and realize it was over.”

 

“Ouch.”

 

“Sorry.” She says digging her heels into the ground, “I didn’t do it to hurt you or Jonas.”

 

“Then why did you tell him? You told me you wouldn’t.” Isak asks

 

“After you left, I started hanging out with Jonas, a lot.” She explains, “And I know that’s no excuse, but I thought he needed to know.” She pauses, clearing her throat before she looks away, “And I knew if you told him the truth, he’d forgive you.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“I know, I’m so sorry, Isak.”

 

“You didn’t want him to forgive me?”

 

“I don’t know.” Eva shrugs.

 

“Wait.” Isak stops her, “Were you trying to break us up?”

 

“I don’t know what I was trying to do.” Eva tries to lie, but Isak knows that’s exactly what it is, so he stares at her until she tells the truth, “Okay, maybe I was, just a little bit.” She finally admits.

 

“Eva.” Isak laughs, “What the fuck.”

 

“I know.” She smiles, “It’s just.” She begins, but quickly stops herself.

 

So Isak finishes for her, “You like Jonas, don’t you?” 

 

“I swear, I didn’t mean to, but I was with him everyday on tour and he’s kind of great.”

 

Isak laughs, nodding in agreement. Jonas is.

 

“I really am sorry, Isak.” Eva sighs, giving Isak’s arm a small squeeze, “If it helps, everyone was mad at me too. Jonas didn’t even speak to me for almost two weeks.”

 

“It does.” Isak teases.

 

She nudges his shoulder playfully before she looks around, “Is everyone going in?” Eva asks.

 

Isak looks around, only then noticing the empty patio chairs, “It looks like it.”

 

“Shit, I think they’re on now!” Eva jumps up, “C’mon, we have to get good seats.”

 

Like before, Eva pulls him with her into the crowded house. Once he’s in, he sees the band moving onto the small platform in the middle of the room. Jonas’s drums shine under the lights they have stung around room. It casts a warm orange light as people begin to quiet down. Finally, Even steps behind the microphone.

 

He looks soft and warm under the lighting, and happy with the guitar pressed in his hands, standing in front of everyone he loves. He begins to speak, thanking everyone for coming and supporting them, but his words quickly pause when he finally sees Isak.

 

He feels Eva squeeze his hand when Even’s eyes finally move over him as he collects himself and continues. 

 

The music begins, slowly at first. It’s a warm melody that fills the room. Isak hasn’t heard Even’s voice in so long that when Even begins to sing, he feels like his chest is going to concave.

 

When Even finishes, the crowd claps loud enough that it makes him smile.

 

There’s so many people, but Isak assumes it was bound to happen, he saw it on tour. Even before their single got out, people were already queuing up for their shows, gathering at the back of the venues, waiting for a glimpse of the band. They’re big.

 

It’s not until his next song that his smile falls.

 

“This song is the sixth track on our album.” Even introduces it, “It’s our first single and,” Even continues, “It’s shit.” He looks directly at Isak as he says it.

 

Everyone in the room laughs except Isak. Hearing his words repeated back to him makes him fees sick. He feels even sicker when the song begins to play. The first verse begins to play and Even hasn’t looked away. He doesn’t hear more than a couple lines before he’s pushing his way out of the room.

 

He doesn’t want to hear Even sing it, and he especially doesn’t want to see the crowd of people sing it back to him.

_ *** _

_ still shit? _

_ fuck you _

***

The next morning Jonas knocks on his bedroom door with his head hung, “Alright?” He asks before he steps in.

 

When Isak nods his head, pulling the covers up to his chin, Jonas steps in.

 

“You left pretty early last night?” He says.

 

“And you left me alone for the entire night.”

 

“Not the entire night.” Jonas says, moving to the foot of the bed, “Just a little towards the end.”

 

Isak rolls his eyes, waiting for Jonas to finally ask him.

 

“So.” Jonas starts, “Am I allowed to ask about yesterday or are we still not talking about it?”

 

“We can talk about it.” Isak finally gives in, “But” Isak jumps out from under the covers, “You have to make me breakfast first.”

 

Jonas is tossing pancakes up in the air when the door bells rings loud enough that it echoes throughout their entire apartment. He looks at Jonas until he sits the pan down, eyebrows raising when the door chime comes again.

 

“Are you having someone over?” Isak asks, the door still sounding in the background.

 

“I don’t think so.” Jonas answers slowly, walking across their kitchen, “Are you?”

 

Isak shakes his head, “You’re the only one I talk to, so.” He laughs, getting up so he can follow Jonas to their front door.

 

When the ringing becomes loud knocking Jonas calls out, “I’m coming!”

 

Before he answers the door, Jonas looks through the small peep hole before he turn to look at Isak, “It’s Even.”

 

“Even!” Isak repeats in a whispers, “What is he doing here?”

 

Jonas looks at him dumbly as the knocking continues, “He probably wants to see you since you’ve been ignoring him.”

 

“Don’t answer it!” Isak tells him.

 

“Isak.” Jonas scorns, “I have to, I already said I would!   
  


“Don’t tell him, I’m here.” He says, running down the hallway, hiding behind the wall creating their living room.

 

He hears Jonas answer the door, and when Even’s voice comes, he feels like he wants to scream.

 

“Is Isak here?” He hear Even ask.

 

“Sorry, he’s out.” Jonas lies, and Even must be able to tell he is because he sighs a pleading “Jonas.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Jonas apologizes, “try again later, man.”

 

“Will you talk to him?” Even asks.

 

“I’ll try.” Jonas promises.

 

Isak waits until he hears the door shut before he looks. He’s glad he doesn’t have to watch it shut in front of Even’s face.

 

Jonas looks at Isak angrily as he walks back down their hallway, “No more excuses, Isak. You need to talk to him. I can’t keep lying to him and you can’t keep ignoring him.”

 

“I know.” Isak says quietly, “I just need more time.”

 

“Why? You know you’re going to get together.”

 

“Said who.” Isak tries to deny.

 

“Even.” Jonas yells.

 

“Really?” Isak wishes he didn’t sound as pathetic as he did.

 

“Talk to him” is all Jonas says, before he disappears into his room.

 

***

_ sorry _

_ me too _

***

It’s late on a Wednesday night when Isak gets stuck with the last shift. Normally, he’d fight to have it off, but he’s not in a rush to get back to their place tonight. He hasn’t realized how long it’s been since he’s covered closing until he goes to grab the cleaning supplies and he finds them in the lower cabinet instead of the top shelf.

 

The only other person working is Carly and he likes her, and there’s not a lot left for them to do, so Isak doesn’t mind.

 

“There’s a few of those blueberry crumbles left in the back, wanna eat them before we start?” Carly smiles.

 

“I’ll brew us some hot chocolate.” Isak pitches in.

 

“You read my mind.” She smiles before she rushes behind the counter. 

 

Isak busies himself with their drinks while he hears Carly behind the glass.

 

“You don’t mind if I turn the radio on, do you?” Carly yells out as she’s dumping leftover pastries onto their table.

 

“Go for it.” Isak tells her, glass mugs clattering in their hands.

 

The music comes from the overhead pouring into the silence of the shop.

 

_ Are you still working _

_ yea why? _

_ Just asking  _

_ jonas _

 

When Jonas doesn’t text back, Isak sighs, letting his phone drop onto the table.

 

“Boy problems?” Carly asks.

 

“Something like that.” Isak nods.

 

“Is that why you’ve been taking so much time off?” Carly asks pulling apart a piece of her scone, “You were gone so much, we didn’t think you were going to come back.”

 

“JUst been trying to figure some things out.”Isak shrugs, fumbling with the wrapper of his muffin.

 

“Like what?”

 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Isaklaughs.

 

“Does have to do something with the guy who comes in here to visit you sometimes. The one with curly hair?”

 

“Jonas?” Isak laughs, “No. Well, not really.”

 

He takes bite into the top of the muffin when Carly goes on, “What about the blonde one?” Carly says, “Wait, is that why there was a problem.  _ Isak _ !”

 

He nearly chokes on his food it when she asks.

 

“It is!” Carly laughs quickly, “Now you have to tell me!”

 

Isak burns his tongue sipping his hot chcolate just so he doesn’t have to answer, and a little bit just so he doesn’t have to choke again. “How” Isak begins to ask, “Does everyone know?”

 

“There’s not a lot to talk about when you work here.” Carly grins leaning back into her seat, with her mug pressed to her lips, “So which one did  you end up with?”

 

“Neither.” He shakes his head, “I think. At least not at the moment.”   
  


“Oh.” She says, regrettably, sipping from her cup, “That’s probably the best for you right now.”

 

“Yea, I think so.” Isak hums not ready to say anything else.

 

He continues pulling apart his pastry when Carly jumps up. 

 

“Have you heard this song?” She yells, rushing behind the counter, so she can turn the speakers up, “I think I’ve listened to it at least ten times today.”

 

As the song grows louder and clearer, Isak realizes he has heard of the band.

 

“I think they’re called Tune out..or Tuners.” Carly tries to remember.

 

“In Tunes.” Isak speaks up trying to keep his voice straight, “Yea.” He clears his throat, “I’ve heard it on the radio.”

 

“It’s so good, right!” Carly doesn’t seem to take the hint, “Supposedly the band’s from around here too.”

 

“Can you turn it down?” He asks lowly, trying to keep the music from continuing.

 

It’s not like hasn’t heard the song. He’s heard it two and a half times. Once in the car, and another in his room with his headphones in, alone. Then almost again at the release party. But the thing is, the song seems to be everywhere. It plays overheads in gas stations, bus radios and grocery stores. It’s like entire world is listening to his song, and Isak thinks that’s the worst part. It’s not like he didn’t know that people would hear, but it’s so public. And maybe they don’t actually know it’s for him, but but he does and it doesn’t stop his cheeks from reddening when Carly sings along to it.

 

“Not a fan?” She asks, looking at him funny, until the music gradually softens, but Even’s voice still comes through.

 

“No it’s not that.” Isak tries to laugh it off, “But shouldn’t we be cleaning.”

 

“You’re no fun anymore.” She teases him before she collects their dirty dishes.

 

“Wanna start out here, while I’ll get the back?” She asks.

 

Isak nods trying to forget Even’s voice is paying the background.

 

He begins sweeping the floors, while Carly’s busy cleaning countertops when a pounding comes on the glass door. The handle drops out of his hands and for a moment he and Carly can’t move. It’s nearly midnight so he thinks they're definitely going to get robbed.

 

Except it’s not, robber, it’s Even. At that moment, Isak would rather take his chances with the robber.

 

Even puts his hands up, waiting for Isak to move. He doesn’t, not until Carly tells him to, “Do you know him?”

 

When he nods slowly Carly pushes him, “Aren’t you going to let him in?”

 

It’s then Isak does, slowly, like he’s  unsure if he even wants to.

 

“How did you know I was here?” Isak asks, with his back turned to Even as he relocks their door. It’s the first time he’s spoken to him in weeks.

 

“Jonas told me you were here.” Even tells him.

 

When he finally turns around to meet Even, it feels like his chest is chest is going to pull and contract and splinter inside him.

 

“What do you want?” It comes out a lot harsher than it should, more than he wants it to, but it’s the only way he can get words out, even if it makes his stomach twist.

 

“I” Even begins to say when his eyes flicker past him and backwards on Carly until she’s awkwardly backpedaling herself behind the counter, then into the kitchen.

 

Finally Even turns to look at him, and there's something awful about it.

 

“Why are you doing this, Isak?” Even breathes, letting his eyes close for a few seconds, half in pain, half in exhaustion.

 

“I’m not doing anything.” He mumbles back.

 

“That’s exactly why I had to come down here at midnight just to talk to you.” Even argues back, not bothering to mask the annoyance flaring up between his words.

 

“Some people would take that as a hint.” Isak reminds him.

 

Even stares at Isak almost like he’s about to give up as he collapses on the top of the countertop.

 

“So is this what we’re going to do now?” Even sighs, “Ignore each other like teenagers?”

 

“Works for me.”

 

“Isak.”

 

“You ignored me, Even, the entire time we were on tour and like an entire month after that.”

 

“I wanted to give you space.”

 

“Space, Even not complete fucking silence.”

 

“I thought it’d be easier for you to decide what you wanted if I wasn’t there.”

 

“I made up my mind weeks ago, and you still didn’t answer me.”

 

“Maybe I needed space too, Isak.” Even sighs, “But now I don’t.”

 

“That’s not how it works Even. You don’t get to pick and choose when it’s convenient for me to be in your life.”

 

“That’s not what I was doing!” He argues, “I wanted us to last this time, so I had to make sure there was nothing in the way. No girlfriends or boyfriend this time.”

 

“Well.” Isak struggles, “Maybe it’s too late.”

 

“It’s not.” Even shakes taking a step forward, “Is it.”

 

Isak doesn’t move when Even moves to stand in front of him, not even when he puts his hand on his face.

 

“No, but you’re going on tour., so it doesn’t matter because you’re not going to be here anyway.” Isak blurts out, pushing Even away.

 

Even’s expression instantly changes, “How” he begins to ask.

 

“Jonas told me.”

 

“We are.” Even only nods, “not with Sonja this time too.”

 

“Congratulations” is all Isak says, bitterly.

 

“But what does have to do with anything?”

 

“Seriously?” Isak laughs dryly, “You’re not even going to be here. So why bother trying to this?”

 

“The farthest we’ll be is thirty hours away, but by bus or plane, that’s nothing.”

 

“You’re serious?” Isak laughs, “You’d really come back?”

 

“For you?” Even says, “Whenever I can.”

 

“Long distance relationships never work, Even.”

 

“Then lets not call it that, lets just...be.”

 

“When has that ever worked for us?”

 

“I don’t know, Isak, but I’m willing to try. If that means coming back just to spend a few hours with you before I go back, I’m willing to do that.” 

 

Isak doesn’t speak for a while and when he does it’s to ask, “For how long?”

 

“Tour lasts until December.” Even answers,

 

“Okay.” Isak says.

 

“Really?”

 

Isak shakes his head, and Even kisses him before he can say anything else.

***

When Isak doesn’t go home that night, Jonas texts him the next morning.

 

_ I’m assuming you saw Even _

_ fuck you _

_ Save it for Even  _

_ unless you guys want to  start doing that again _

_ JONAS _

_ (; _

***

The song’s still playing on the radio when they leave for tour. Isak thinks it makes it a little easier to be away from Even. He can hear his voice on the radio during the day and then later at night on the phone for hours before they both fall asleep.

***

_ How was the show tonight _

_ Tight show in albany, almost fell off the stage _

_ seventeen hours away _

_ Don’t _

_ Six hours by bus _

_ three by plane _

_ Twelve hours both way just for a few hours _

_ Only six really _

_ I’d come even if it meant I’d get only one _

***

The first time Even comes home, he texts Isak first.

 

_ Home? _

 

It’s two in the afternoon when Isak gets the message, so he’s not. He’s seated in the lounge area in the psychology building waiting for the previous class to clear out. It’s one of the first times he’s managed to come early, determined to get one of the seats not in the last back rows of his classroom.

 

_ Now? _

 

His fingers twitch over his keyboard as he nervously and anxiously waits for Even’s reply.

 

_ NOW _

 

He doesn’t notice the students pushing past him out the classroom as he stares at his phone. He’s fighting the smile spreading across his face as he makes his way out of the building. He rushes home, finding Even standing outside of his door, his bag thrown over his shoulder.

 

“Hi, baby.” Even says and it’s all he gets to say before Isak’s dropping his backpack, racing to Even. 

 

He kisses him, desperate and fervently, pressing into Even until they both stumble backward. Isak chases after his lips when Even pulls backward, too busy laughing and wincing from being knocked into the wood and door handle.

 

“Do you want to go in, or shall we do it here?” Even teases, licking over his lips.

 

With impatent hands, Isak sticks his keps into the lock, pushing them both in. 

 

“Missed you.” Even mumbles against Isak’s mouth, moaning when he slips his tongue into it.

 

“Show me.” Isak tells him.

 

They’ve just made it inside when Even grabs on his hips, pushing him against the wall, back pressing the wood close. 

 

Even pushes forward and leans up and kisses him, soft and slow despite the urgency of his words. He slides his hands up Isak’s torsos, over his chest until he can curl his 

fingers around Isak’s neck, lightly.

Isak tries to remember the last time they kissed like this, with this much intensity, this much urgency. He thinks it had the be the night before Even for tour. It had been desperate then, both knowing it’d be weeks until they’d get to see each other again. The night had ended in tears, and promises pressed into each other’s skin.

But Even’s home now, so there’s desperation, hiding underneath his skin, remaining him Even’s leaving, soon, too soon.

 

“Hate being away from you” Even almost growls, pulling him forward by the shirt. He doesn’t let up on his kisses, turning them fast and rough, his hands sliding under Isak’s thighs picking him up. 

 

Even begins to walk, letting Isak wrap his legs around his waist, kissing him deeply until he falls to the comforter, bouncing slightly. He rests on his hands as he stares up, waiting for Even to join him.

Even stands in front of him, running his fingers through Isak’s hair, pushing loose waves out of his face. Isak melts under his touch, until Even leans forward, his lips pressing a kiss to his forehead.

His fingers move down the curve of Isak’s jaw, down his neck, tracing the skin pulled over his collarbones. He pushes the collar of Isak shirt down so he can trace the rest of them, before he’s gripping the hem of Isak’s shirt and pulling. When it’s off, Even runs his fingers down his chest, until he leans forward, and slides his tongue into Isak’s open mouth.

Isak reaches up, gripping Even’s shoulder, before he’s putting his hand through his hair, pulling him down until the weight of him comes down, pushing him into the mattress. Even moves back just long enough to pull his shirt off, throwing it somewhere across the room, and they both moan at the feel of bare skin against bare skin.

 

“Too many clothes,” Isak pants out in between kisses, pulling at Even’s waistband, until Even’s grinding against Isak’s lap.

 

It takes a while for both of them to get out of their jeans, mostly because Even won’t stop kissing him anywhere his lips can touch skin, the back of his neck, the inside of his thigh and the base of his spine.

But soon there’s a pile of clothes of their clothes at the foot of their bed, tangled in the sheets. Then, there’s nothing but skin between them, hips rocking together, fire licking up Isak’s skin as their cocks slide together.

He misses this, the breathless moans spilling from red mouths, the heavy breathing sticking to skin, all of it. Finally, Even reaches between them, wrapping a hand around them both, making Isak’s back arch off the bed, one of his legs wrapping around Even’s hip.

It feels so fucking good to have Even on top of him, but all he can do is clench his eyes shut in pleasure, his mouth slack, and a thin layer of sweat already starting to dampen the sheets. 

Isak opens his eyes, glancing down and groans. Just the sight of them together, makes him throb.

 

“W-wait, wait.” Isak’s fingers catch on the hand Even has wrapped around them, slowing Even’s frantic strokes. “Not yet,” he pants, and moves Even’s hand further between his thighs, so he’s right over where Isak wants him, “Please, Even,” he rasps.

 

“Okay, baby." Even groans, kissing him hard, sliding the tips of his fingers over Isak’s hole. 

Isak almost shouts when Even pulls away from him, digging in his drawers. 

 

“Second shelf.” Isak collects himself to tell him.

 

Even presses a rough kiss to Isak’s before he comes back with a small bottle of lube and a condom. 

His fingers come down cold, slick with lube, and Isak’s legs fall open, ready for it. He pulls his knees up until they rest above his chest. He feels Even rub the pad of his middle finger over him. Isak groans, long and low, throwing his head back as Even works the tip of his finger inside him, slow and steady and it’s the first time they’ve ever done this-- the first time they’ve done it together. 

He goes slow, adding each finger slowly, until Isak’s pressing back, ready for more. He finally pulls his fingers from Isak’s body, tearing the condom wrapper open with his teeth. Isak leans up and takes it from him, pressing their lips together as he rolls the latex over Even himself. 

Even pulls hims forward, pressing in and waits.

They settle into a frantic rhythm, Even thrusting into Isak’s body over and over again, and Isak meeting him each time, clenching his legs around Even’s upper back, spreading his legs as far as they can go, opening himself up for Even.

He can feel his release building in the pit of his stomach, his body tightening with it. He wraps his hand around Even’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, squeezing around the base, and Isak moans loudly as he comes, Even still snapping his hips forward, frantically until he’s coming.

He lets them slip apart, leaving quickly to return with just enough toilet paper to clean their chests. He settles back next to Isak, their skin sticking from the sweat.

 

“I’m never leaving.” Even wshipes, pressing his forehead to Isak’s.

 

“Stay here.” Isak pants, tangling his legs with Even’s, bringing him closer, “With me.”

 

“Forever.” Even promises.

Isak lets his eyes slowly shut, knowing Even has to leave soon, but for now, he tries to enjoy the warmth of Even sleeping next to him, knowing it’ll grow cold soon.

***

Even’s gone by the time he wakes up, nothing but his impressions in the mattress are left of him.

***

_ I miss you already _

_ You just left _

_ Just admit you miss me too Isak _

I miss you

***

The next time Even shows up it’s a week and a half later. Isak’s trying to keep his eyes open, half asleep on his living room sofa, waiting for the door to the sound when he eventually falls asleep.

 

“Isak.” a gentle voice whispers, shaking him, lightly.

 

Isak opens his eyes slowly, the weight of his eyelids seem too heavy to keep them open. Even with his eyes half closed, he can see how exhausted Even looks.

 

“When did you get here?” Isak yawns rolling onto his side so Even can slide next to him.

 

“Just got here.” He answers, “Jonas gave me his key, so I didn't have to knock anymore.”

 

With Even pressed next to him, he can feel Even’s jacket cold from the night he’s just walked out of.

 

“”Is that okay?” He looks unsure with the key still in his hand.

 

“Yea, you’re more than he is.” Isak shrugs, pushing the key back into Even’s hand, 

 

“You look tired.” Isak whispers, moving closer so he’s half on Even’s lap.

 

“We played a show tonight in Brooksville.” He tells Isak, letting his eyes close momentarily.

 

“How far away is that?” Isak asks, slipping his hands up Even’s chest, pushing his coat of his shoulder.

 

Even adjusts so Isak can get the clothing off of him, “About four hours.” 

 

“So how long are you here for this time?”

 

“Gotta be on the road by 8.”

 

“So a whole six hours.”

 

“Worth it.”

 

Isak smiles, pulling on the collar of Even’s shirt so he can kiss him.

 

“Are you hungry?” Isak asks when he pulls away.

 

“Starving.” Even nods.

 

They make waffles in their underwear, just enough clothes on to keep them on edge.

 

Even stacks a few onto a plate, a carton of syrup in the other hand, while Isak follows him into the bedroom with a jug of orange juice.

 

When they’re already situated in Isak’s bed with their food, Isak realizes they’ve forgotten their forks. But the bed’s too warm and Isak really doesn’t want to move off of Even, so they just shrug tearing pieces of the waffle with their hands.

  
  


Syrup drips from their chins as they dip pieces of their food into it, before bringing it up to their mouth. WHen they’re finishes, their fingers are sticky and Isak can taste the syrup from Even’s lips when he kisses him.

 

He can still taste it when he kisses him goodbye in the morning.

***

It becomes a usual thing. Even calling him whenever he’s able to get back in town. For the few hours that Even’s there, Isak feels like it could work.

***

_ Things I’ve seen Magnus try to microwave today:  _

_ 2 day old frozen taco _

_ Iced coffee _

_ eyebrow wax _

_ burger STILL wrapped in foil _

_ Hashtag tourlife _

_ If we burn down our tour bus how many more rockstar points do we get _

_ Depends  _

_ On? _

_ How many shity songs you write about it _

_ shity? _

_ Ouch. haha _

_ admit it's a good song _

_ never _

***

It’s a surprise when Isak gets home after class and Even is asleep on his couch, head propped up by his hands. Isak almost wakes him, but there’s small fading rings under Even’s eyes, and he decides to let his boyfriend sleep.

 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Even yawns when he finally begins to wake up, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was trying to surprise you.”

 

Isak look sup from his work, smiling when he sees Even still groggy from his sleep.

 

“You looked exhausted and I had some work to do anyway.”

 

“What time is it?” Even hums, stretching his hands up over his head, shirt riding with him.

 

“Nearly 10.” Isak answers, closing his books, that’s all the work he cares about doing tonight now that Even’s up.

 

“Wanna go get ice cream?” Even smiles, already moving onto his feet.

 

“This late?” Isak laughs.

 

Even not, smiling, and that’s all it takes for Isak to slip on his shoes and follow Even out the door.

 

Isak gets two scoops of mint chocolate chip chocolate, while Even gets a scoop of peanut butter, coconut and bubblegum that stains his lips and tongue blue.

 

“That looks disgusting.” Isak grows at Even’s cone, the ice cream already beginning to melt, the colors running and dripping together.

 

“It’s good.” Even promises, licking straight up the cone.

 

They’re seated at the few picnic tables outside the parlor, with nothing, but a street lamp helping them see.

 

“Try it.” Even offers, holding his cone toward Even.

 

“No thank you.” Isak smirks taking a lick from his own.

 

“Boring.” Even huffs, lapping up some of the ice cream beginning to run down his hand.

 

“That’s attractive.” Isak teases, watching Even messily trying to eat ice cream.

 

“Yea?” Even smiles, and Isak nearly chokes when he wraps his mouth around his icecream, taking it all into his mouth.

 

“Even.” He gasps.

 

Even pulls the dessert out, laughing loudly at Isak’s face. There’s still ice cream on his lips when he kisses Isak. His lips are cold and he tastes like ice cream, mostly peanut butter,when he crashes their tongues together.

 

Their ice creams go forgotten as they kiss. When Isak moves into his lap, Even drops his cone, so he can put both hands on his boy.

 

His fingertips are cold when they slide up his shirt.

 

“You taste kind of gross.” Isak laughs when Even lets him breathe.

 

“Rather I taste like you, then?” Even smirks, pulling hims closer.

 

“Maybe.” Isak blushes.

 

Even keeps looking at him when his tongue flicks over ihs lips, “Me too.”

 

Isak’s mouth falls open slightly, he lets the ice cream fall from his hands. He tugs them both back to their place.

 

They spent every minute of the six hours in bed, up until the very second Even has to leave.

 

_ *** _

 

_ Played in front of 4,000 people tonight _

_ fuck!! Congrats _

_ Wish you had been there _

_ Me too _

***

_ Even _

_ Isak _

_ it's a good song _

_ I know baby _

***

  _Can you call?_

_ Too loud _

_ Later? _

_ About to fall asleep _

_ tomorrow? _

_ I’ll try _

_ Goodnight _

_ Sweet dreams bby _

***

_ (3) Missed calls Even _

_ In class sorry _

_ Even? _

_ Sorry interview then show _

_ Just realized it’s 3 am haha talk to you tomorrow _

_ *** _

_ Even _

_ Isak _

_ I miss you _

_ I know baby. I miss you too _

_ 3 months left _

_ *** _

_ should we sext _

_ fucking christ Isak’s it’s 2 in the morning _

_ Skype rn _

_ I’ll make it worth it _

_ fuck okay _

_ gimme a sec _

_ *** _

_ Wow _

_ (; _

_ goodnight _

_ *** _

_ COMING HOME THIS WEEKEND!! _

_ FINALLY _

_ We can try that taco place you’re always talking about _

_ It’s so good, Even _

_ Fuck I just wanna see you already _

_ 4 days _

_ *** _

_ You’re going to hate me.. _

_? _

_ AP wants us to do one of their live sessions  _

_ Even that’s fucking amazing!  _

_ Why would I be mad _

_ Saturday’s the only day we can do it _

_ Isak? _

_ When’s the next break _

_ 2 weeks _

_ *** _

_ I’m sorry _

_ me too _

_ *** _

_ Sometimes I wish you weren’t in a band  _

_ so you didn’t have to be away on tour _

_ Sometimes I wish that too _

_ *** _

It takes two very long weeks for Even to finally find his way back into Isak’s apartment. When he shows up, he can almost feel the distance still between them.

 

He knocks this time, even though Isak knows he has his key on him.

 

“Hi.” Even starts off with.

 

Isak’s smile is weak when he replies “Hi” back.

 

When he lets Even in, they don’t make it any further than the hallway before Even pulls him into his chest. He hold him so close Isak can feel his heartbeat against him. He buries his face into Isak’s neck, breathing him in.

 

Isak relaxes into his grasp, nuzzling into Even’s arms, his face pressing into his chest.

 

“I’m sorry.” Even begins to apologize, his hand petting over his back.

 

“Don’t. The interview was a big deal. You had to take it.” Isak mumbles

 

“I know.” Even sighs, “I’m just so tired of splitting my time. I wish I could be here all the time.”

 

They stay cradled in each other’s arms for a long time until Even finally pulls away, “I’m here for two days this time.”

 

“Where’s your stuff?” Isak asks when he realizes Even has no carry on this time.

 

“Don’t need any. ”Isak shrugs, a smile lazily making its way across his lips, “Don't plan on leaving the apartment or the bedroom very much.”

 

Isak laughs, pushing at Even’s shoulder. He Doesn't try to argue against it; he knows Even’s right anyway.

 

Even fucks him on his side that night, one leg locked around his waist and the other one held up by Even’s tight grip. And every time he bottoms out, he makes Isak want to scream. There’s no space left between them now, or any reminder of it. They’re together, and Isak thinks it’s best time yet.

 

Afterwards, the room’s humid and heavy as they lay there, sweaty and out of breath, smoking lazily wrapped in the sheets.

 

“Look what I got?” Even smiles, smoke escaping his lips as he reaches off the bed, tugging his jacket up to him. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small camera from his pocket.

 

“Smile.” Even tells him, the joint dangles in between his lips, as he closes one eye while the other one looks through the small camera’s glass.

 

Isak feels embarrassed once the lens is in front of him. His hair’s damp and sticking to his skin. He looks pink and flustered,  but he puts the biggest, goofiest smile he can create on and flicks the hair from his face. The flash comes quick, and with a low hum, the picture spits out. When it finally develops it, Even laughs at the sight of it.

 

He hands the blunt to Isak letting him take a hit.

 

“What are you doing?” Isak asks, inhaling from the end of it, watching Even pull something from the front pocket of his jeans.

 

“I’m going to put it in my wallet.”

 

Isak cheeks blush a warm pink when he sees Even tuck his photo into one of the small picture compartments. “And this one” Even goes on, pointing the camera back at his face. Before Isak can hide and dodge the frame, Even snaps the photos, “This one I’ll put on our van window.”

 

“Why?” Isak questions

 

“So I never forget where I belong.” He smiles, “And what I have to come back home to.”

 

“You can’t just stay like that.” Isak says letting the joint fall into the empty cup beside the bed.

 

“Why not? I mean it.” Even shrugs.

 

“Because you’re going to be gone before I wake up. And I’ll have to wait weeks before I get to see you again.”

 

“You’re right.” Even says simply, “That doesn’t change anything.”

 

“Yes it does.” Isak argues back, forcing the covers back around his waist. He slides a random pair of shorts from the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed up his legs, before he pushes himself off the mattress, “You’re not here, and when you are you’re here for what, two days?”

 

“Isak.” Even tries to coax him back into bed, “What’s wrong? Miss me?”

 

“Yea.” Isak’s jaw drops open. He stares at the floor so he doesn’t have to feel like Even’s “All the fucking time.”

 

Even finally notices where this conversation going, and he watches Isak for far too long. He realizes this has taken them far too long to talk about. 

 

“I’m right here, baby. Isn’t that good enough?” Even says.

 

It’s not. Especially, since he’s never here with Isak, because he’s meant to be on the road or halfway to the next state their playing in. They’re living on borrowed time.

 

“No it’s not. I don’t want to be your two day layover from Pittsburgh to Asbury or whatever break you can fit into your schedule.”

 

This time it’s Even violently tugging on his clothing, trying to redress and find the clothes that are scattered around the room.

 

“You think that’s what you are?” Even hisses, pushing past Isak when he stomps his way out of his bedroom. Even’s still yanking his t-shirt over his shoulders when he yells behind him down the hallway, ““How can you even think that, Isak? I don’t come down here just so we can fuck. I want to see you.”

 

“Only when it fits in your schedule!” Isak yells back, following Even down the hallway. 

 

Even stops as soon Isak gets those words out. He spins around, quick, “You’re being ridiculous right now, you know that?”

 

“Fuck you.” Isak winces, “I’m not doing this, do whatever you want, stay, go. I don’t care. You probably have some place to be anyway.”

 

“What do you want me to do then?” Even shouts, “Quit the band? Only play local shows? What is it that you want, Isak?”

 

“I don’t know.” Isak sounds frustrated,

 

“I’m not going to be here, Isak. I’ll be touring seven months out of the year, and distance is going to be between us. But I don’t mind, I’ll always come back for you.”

 

“Maybe that isn’t enough, Even.”

 

“Is it want you want?”

 

“No.” Isak admits, “but I think it’s what you need. It’s just, I don’t think we can work right now.”

 

“Timing?” Even asks, his voice asofter.

 

“Yea, timing.” Isak’s voice breaks, “There’s never going to be a right timing is there?”

 

“I don’t think so. Not as long as this is my life.”

Neither of them say anything for a long time. And Isak can feel the goodbye coming. 

 

“So this is it?” Even’s voice quivers..

 

“I think so.”

 

“I should go.”

 

“You don’t have to. It’s late.”

 

“I think.” Even pauses, “It'd be easier if I left.”

 

They both stay silent as Even dresses fully, pulling his jacket on, ready to leave. Before he walks out, he looks at Isak one last time. He doesn’t say anything, but Isak doesn’t think he needs to, he understand everything from just that one look.

***

Isak wakes up he next morning to an empty bed, but wrinkled sheets all over. It feels colder than it does most mornings, and Isak thinks it has something to do with last night. With the warm sun poking through the slits in his curtains, Isak thinks it’d be a lot easier if the skies looked just as bad as he felt. He tries to stay in bed, but it’s like Even’s still pressed in his sheets, lingering in the seams and stitching. He’s beginning to think he’ll never be able to sleep in his bed ever again.

 

The first night’s the hardest. Even with new sheets, Isak still finds himself on the sofa.

 

However, it gets easier the second night that is until his phone rings at midnight and he can’t let himself ignore it.

 

_ I want to come home _

_ I miss you _

_ *** _

_ I think I wrote another song about you _

_ *** _

_ I wish you were here _

_ I wish we could have worked _

_ *** _

Isak’s still sleeping on his couch, four days later, when Jonas comes crashing through their door. Isak scrambles up, meeting the wild look in Jonas’s eyes when he sees Isak in their living room.

 

“Is everything alright?” Isak begins to ask when Jonas drops his bag, loudly on their carpet, “You need to talk to him.”

 

“I already have.”

 

Jonas rolls his eyes, not bothering take off his jacket when he sinks onto a chair, “Isak, cut the bullshit. I know.”

 

“Then you know, it’s over between Even and I.” He says stubbornly, refusing to admit anything else. It’s not something he’s ready to think about, so saying it aloud to Jonas is something he’s not ready to do.

 

“How long are you and Even going to do this?” Jonas asks, and he almost sounds as exhausted Isak feels, “It’s not fair to you or Even.”

 

“It was Even’s decision too.” Isak reminds him.

 

“It’s not, and you know that. He really loves you and whatever you two are or aren’t doing is affecting all of us now.” Jonas yells, running a hand through his hair. Isak’s ready to yell back when Jonas cuts him off, “You know he wants to end the tour early. He says he’s homesick.”

 

“That’s his decision.”Isak swallows.

 

“Isak!” Jonas shouts, “this isn’t just your life, it’s Even’s too. Do you really think he wants to quit tour? He’s staying for you!”

 

“I’m not asking him to!”

 

“For fucks sake, Isak. You don’t need to. You just need to tell him you miss him and he’d drop everything to be with you.

 

Isak stares at him blankly until he shakes his head,“This isn’t your business.” He tries to push past Jonas when his friends captures his wrist, keeping them in front of each other as the argument continues, “I’m your best friend, but I’m also in Even’s band, so it is.”

 

“It’s not my fault, Even’s not agreeing to tour.”

 

“It is.” Jonas shouts right in his face. Isak pulls backwards, surprised by Jonas’s sudden outburst. After noticing it, Jonas releases Isak’s wrist, and a little softer, he adds, “But it’s Even’s fault too. It’s like everyone knows what’s best for you guys, expect you two. Fuck, I’m not even in this relationship, and I know what you should do.”

 

“I don’t need your advice.”

 

“Yes you do! And whether or not you want it, you’re going to get, So shut up and let me talk. You love Even, Even loves you. Get the fuck over whatever’s stopping you from telling him that, and tell him.”

 

When Isak continues to stare, wide eyed and silent, Jonas gives him a look, “Okay?”

 

“Okay.” Isak finally says back. “Okay.” He repeats to himself, wondering if he says it enough, if he’ll start to believe it.

 

That night he decides, he can do this. He can tell Even.

***

_ Left you a ticket for our next show. It’s only four hours away _

_ Be there. Talk to Even _

_ I can’t just drop everything and go to your show, Jonas _

_ Do it for Even _

***

He can’t do this, Isak begins to realize as he’s waiting outside the venue. He’s drove the four hours, but now that he’s outside the small stadium, he doesn’t think he can actually go through with it.

 

_ Are you here _

_ I put your name on the list _

_ Even doesn’t know _

 

There’s an actual line of people down the block across the street from him, and even more scuffling out of their cars when the doors open.

 

He waits until there’s only a few people lingering outside the venue before he goes inside. As the crowd fills the large center area in front of the stage, Isak keeps to the back. Hidden by the lack of stage lights, Isak makes sure he’s tucked far away from the stage that no one can see him. 

 

He’s glancing through his phone when the crowd erupts. The band that’s opening for them is an all girl rock band who play five songs that make Isak more anxious than anything else.

 

_ ISAK WHERE ARE YOU _

 

_ T _ he transition and set up for the next band is painfully long now that he knows Even’s about to take the stage. Jonas walks out first, a roar of cheering makes him smile, but Isak know she’s not just scanning the crowd for the audience, he’s looking for Isak. When he sits behind his drum set, Isak can see In Tunes scribbled over the big bass drum.

 

The rest of the band follows him out, the stage lights brighting once they’re all on stage. Isak sees him first, plugging in his guitar with his head tipped down. He doesn’t look as happy as usually does when he’s on stage.

 

THey play the first song acoustically with just Even playing his guitar. The crowd sings along just loud enough that you can still hear Even. He watches Even sing, his  shoulders hunched up, and his fingers cupping around the mic.  

 

The songs get more upbeat after that, but Even doesn’t seem to. 

 

Finally,midway through the set, Isak decides it’s time. He begins to move through the crowd, pushing his way toward the front row where girls have their elbows leaning onto the stage, necks craned back to stare up. 

 

Once he’s closer, he’s in the light, but the crowd is still engulfing him.

 

“Even!” He yells, but his voice gets lost in the crowd.

 

The song speeds up and the crowd gets rougher, but he still tries to push through it.

 

“Even!” He yells again, this time he thinks he’s heard.

 

Even stop playing, but the audience continues to sing for him. Even definitely sees him. He’s squinting trying to look past the bright stage lights. Even jumps off the stage in between the small lane of space in between the barricade and the stage.

 

A surge of people push forward trying to get closer, and luckily for Isak he moves with it.

 

“Isak?” He sees Even say looking straight at him.

 

Finally people catch on, looking back at Isak and then at Even.

 

“Let him up!” Even tells the crowd, and instantly Isak has strangers pushing him forward. 

 

Once he’s at the barricade, and Even’s in front of him, it’s like all the things he thought about saying can’t come out.

 

It’s like the entire room has fallen silent and they’re watching Even and Isak stare at each other.

 

“Say something!” someone yells somewhere in the background.

 

“I love you.”Isak blurts out.

 

Even looks at him in disbelief, but the crowd erupts with a mixture of cheering and aws.

 

“I love you.” Isak repeats, “I know I said it wasn’t enough, but it is. Even, fuck, you’re enough. I don’t care if you’re on tour for a year and I see you three times out of it. I just want to be with you. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long to figure it out, I’m sorry.”

 

When Even doesn’t say anything, the crowd does.

 

“Kiss him.” They begin to chant, louder and louder.

 

A smile pulls on Even’s face before he does, pulling Isak up and over the barricade so he can press their lips together.

 

“I love you.” Even says right back as they lips touch.

 

After they kiss, Even jumps back on stage, and Isak stays center barricade, watching Even perform. He can feel the love surround him, and he doesn't want to be anywhere else.

  
  


Once they finally get through all their songs, Isak quickly manages to find his way around back. He collides into Even’s arms as soon as he can.

 

He begins to ramble off more apologizes when Even kisses him to shut him up.

 

“You’re here now.” Even smiles, holding him close, “Nothing else matters.”

 

They kiss some more until the band comes and breaks them up so they can hug Isak themselves.

 

They stuff drinks in his hands and turn up the radio so loud Isak can’t hear anything else, but with Even smiling next to him, he doesn’t think there’s any reason he needs to

***

It starts because they’re taking a cab from the venue after all the beer’s gone and they have no idea where the nearest liquor store is. The bus is too large and too noticeable for them to move around in, so they ditch it in the stadium’s parking lot. Isak doesn’t know how they’ve managed to talk to the driver into letting them fill his car into his very small car. Half of them are seated on laps, no one has a seat belt on, but all of them are drunk.

 

“Where’s the best place to drink?” Mahdi half shouts out the drives with an empty heineken bottle in his hand.

 

“I don’t think I can drink anymore.” Magnus gurgles, lazily leaning on the door’s frame.

 

The drives looks at them through the rearview mirror, eyes specifically squinted on Magnus.

 

“Is your friend alright? If he pukes, you all have to get out!” He warns.

 

“He’s alright.” Even assures him, clasping his hand over Magnus’s shoulder to get him to sit up right.

 

Magnus groans, his eyes glossy and hooded as Even moves him.

 

“He looks like he’s going to be sick.” Isak whispers to Even, moving further across Even’s lap to put some distance in between him and Magnus. However there’s so little room inside the vehicle that the only one’s safe from Magnus’s projectile are Sana and Eva up in the passenger seat.

 

“I think I’m going to be sick!” Magnus begins to shout, pulling the clasp on his door in an attempt to get himself out. Except the car’s still driving down the highway, so when it begins to open, Even reaches over and slams it shut.

 

“No not in the van.” The driver shouts, slamming on his breaks so hard and fast everyone jolts from impact.

 

Isak thought that he’d never hear that sentence again since tour, but as the driver shouts it at Magnus, he does his best not to laugh.

 

The driver stops the car in the center of the road, shouting a rapid “Out! Out! Out!” to all of them. Magnus just makes it out the door when he vomits, one hand holding himself up against the car, as he projects onto the side of it.

 

Everyone winces in disgust especially the driver who watches his car become a victim of Magnus’s weak tolerance for alcohol.

 

“Sorry.” Magnus’s apology comes after he wipes the back of sleeve across his lips. He looks at the spoiled car door and then back at the driver, “I’m sorry.”

 

The driver huffs under his breath as he looks at them. He drives off without saying another word, leaving them stranded in the middle of the street. They watch the headlights make their way down the street before anyone speaks. Even then, all that comes is drunken laughter.

 

“What the fuck?” Eva giggles, “Where are we?”

 

Everyone looks around,hoping to make out street names and addresses, but the street lights dont give any hint.

 

“Nice going, Mags.” Mahdi says, sarcastically.

 

“I told you guys I wasn’t feeling right.” Magnus murmurs back, still hunched over.

 

“What are we going to do now?” Vilde asks, rubbing small circles into Magnus’s back as her boyfriend tries to keep himself from vomiting again.

 

“I think I saw some places down the street.” Jonas suggests turning to look in that direction, “Maybe someone will give us a lift back.”

 

“Magnus looks like he’s going to be sick again.” Sana laughs, “no one's going to pick us up. We’re going to be walking back.”

 

“That’s so far.” Eva whines.

 

“We’re going to die.” Noora murmurs, “If not by a serial killer than by me.”

 

“I just want to sleep.” Eva continues to whine.

 

“It’s not that far.” Jonas argues, “We couldn’t have gotten that far. C’mon.”

 

With no other option, but with too many complaints, they begin to walk.

 

“I hate this tour.” Isak tells Even as he swings their intertwined hands up.

 

Even looks at him once, a smile pulling on his lips, “You love it.”

 

“This is your fault, you know.” Isak rolls his eyes, walking close enough to Even that their shoulders keep brushing.

 

“My fault?” Even laughs, “Magnus puking and getting us kicked out the taxi is my fault?”

 

“Maybe not directly, but you did the shots with him.”

 

Even mouth falls open in a loud, drunken laugh as Isak pushes against him. He uses the hand he has captured in Isak’s to bring his boyfriend closer until he pressed right against his chest, “You get kind of pissy when you’re drunk, you know that?”

 

“Still your fault.” Isak murmurs through pouting his lips, “And I’m not drunk, I’m tired and now we have to walk back to the venue in the dark and we’re alone and probably lost.”

 

“We’re not lost!” He hears Jonas yell from up front.

 

Even laughs again before he halts, making Isak stop with him. 

 

“Even.” Isak squeals as Even dives into Isak’s torso, pulling Isak over his shoulder until he’s met with Even’s back.

 

“You said you were tired.” Even says simply, and Isak can feel his shoulders move as if he’s shrugging.

 

“That doesn’t mean I want to be thrown over your shoulder.” He tries to argue, even kicking his feet out just to prove a point.

 

“Quit.” Even laughs giving Isak’s ass a playful slap that makes him grunt in embarrassment.

 

“Can I atleast go the other way?”

 

Even givens in, stopping so Isak can stand on his own. As he wraps around Even, long legs folding across his waist and his hands folding across his neck, he laughs. Even’s hands capture the back of his thighs, holding him tighter..

 

“Seriously?” Sana chuckles when she looks behind to find Even carrying Isak.

 

Isak’s cheeks flush red and he chooses to bury his face in Even’s neck instead of answering. As much as he hates it, it he loves it. Especially when Even squeezes his thighs and smiles when Sana laughs out a “what a baby.” There’s no denying that that’s what he is.

 

He doesn’t get the chance to hang around Even more when the entire band stops.

 

“We should all get matching tattoos.” Magnus suggests, seeming to be more sober than he was when they started walking.

 

“That’s not happening.” Noora laughs continuing to walk down the street.

 

Except she goes on alone because everyone else has stopped outside the shop. When she realizes she’s leaving them behind, she turns around slowly with an eyebrow raised.

 

“Please be joking.” She groans when she sees Vilde already beginning to push open the door.

 

“This can’t be good.” Sana laughs capturing Noora’s wrist, pulling her in with them.

 

The shop’s nearly empty, just a few artists with heavily tattooed arms behind the counter.  Aside from them, no other customers are in the shop either.

 

They’re ushered to a woman’s workspace, discussing their tattoos while the women sits up.

 

“What should we get?” Jonas asks popping into one of the chairs in the room.

 

“You guys should get the band’s name.” Isak offers up, going to sit next to Jonas when Even interlaces their fingers pulling him back into his chest.

 

“Wouldn’t that be narcissistic?” Noora says.

 

“Who cares, our band fucking rocks.” Mahdi scoffs.

 

“How about music notes?” Vilde suggests.

 

“I like it.” Chris says, “Simple, but cute.”

 

“So who’s going first!” The women pops up, turning her gun on so the noise scares them just a little.

 

“It was Magnus’s idea, he goes first.” Sana says, giving the same boy a slight push forward.

 

Magnus’s mouth drops open like he’s going to argue, but he shrugs deciding not to. He takes off his sock and shoe until his ankle is bare, and propped up.

 

He looks at all his friends while she begins to shave away the hair around his ankle.

 

“I’m not even in this band, and I still sufferer the most.” He groans.

 

“You gave us the idea, Mags.” Mahdi laughs clapping a hand on Magnus’s shoulder.

 

When the tattoo gun begins to sound everyone falls silent watching it come down on Magnus’s skin. He jolts a bit from the pain, but quickly grits his teeth so he doesn’t do it again.

 

“How does it feel?” Sana asks staring at the machine.

 

“Like a needle repeatedly stabbing you.” Magnus grits out.

 

While everyone laughs, Even leans in close to whisper in Isak’s ear.

 

“You and I, we should get one?”

 

“What?” Isak laughs.

 

“Just something small.” Even shrugs.

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

Even doesn’t have chance to respond because the tattoo artist is wrapping up Magnus’s foot, yelling out a “Next!” as she quickly switches the needle.

 

She goes on faster after that, coloring a musical note on each of their ankles.

 

“We’re not getting matching tattoos, Even.” Isak laughs sinking into the chair watching the needle dance across Noora’s ankle.

 

She winces as they fill in the note.

 

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” She laughs staring at her own ink blackened skin.

 

“It’ll be cute!” Vilde gushes already staring down at Chris’ foot, “It’s something we all have.”

 

The plastic has been tapped over her tattoo, so Vilde’s finger traces lightly over it instead.

 

“I like it.” Mahdi shrubs looking at his own tattoo, “Really solidifies us as a band.”

 

“I still think we should have gotten our instruments and not just a musical note.” Noora hops off the tattoo chair.

 

“I liked the idea of getting the band’s names.” Even adds, smiling at Isak as he takes the chair next.

 

He kicks off his shoe and then his sock, waiting patiently for the needle to meeth is skin after the women cleans his foot.

 

“The note works because if the band even breaks up again, it won’t be too big to deal with.” Vilde reminds them.

 

“Vilde.” Chris shushes her, “The band’s never breaking up again.”

 

They all look at Jonas, like they’re waiting for him to confirm it.

 

“Yea.” Jonas laughs, “no more breaking up.”

 

A buzzing noise interrupts their conversation, and Even’s foot jolts from the quick pain.

 

“Fuck.” Even laughs it off, “that does feel...weird.”

 

Isak watches the ink paint over Even’s skin, until there’s a music note drawn over it.

 

“What do you say?” Even asks, glancing at the needle and then at Isak.

 

“I’m not saying yes, but” Isak clears his throat, “What would we even get?”

 

Even’s smile widens, “Do you trust me.”

 

“No.” Isak snorts.

 

“I promise you’ll like it.” Even promises.

 

“Wait I want to get a matching tattoo too!” Vilde jumps up.

 

“I’m down.” Chris’s hand raises.

 

“Stop stealing our idea.” Even scoffs.

 

“Wait, you’re actually going to?” Magnus laughs.

 

“You’ll get a matching tattoo with him, but not me, your best friend.” Jonas tries to look offended.

 

“I never said yes!” Isak speaks up, “And you just got one with your band, how is that any different?”

 

“If you get one with Even, you have to get one with me.”

 

“The three of us could get one.” Even offers, except the three of them look at each other, the words remaining them this is what got them into the start of this.

 

“No, no.” Isak laughs.

 

“Yeah, that’s probably a bad idea.” Jonas chuckles, bashfully shaking his head.

 

“I’ll just get one with both you.” Isak finally gives in.

 

“So, who’s getting tattooed again?” The woman asks, beginning to strip the needle off her gun.

 

When Isak looks around, everyone has their hand risen.

 

Even Though everyone already has musical notes on their ankles, they line up for more. Eva, Noora, Chris, Sana, and Vilde all get hearts behind their necks. Mahdi and Magnus get matching beer jugs on their other ankle.

 

And Isak leaves the parlor with a pair of small drumsticks matching Jonas’s simple drums. And an outline of a grilled cheese sandwich identical to Even’s on his hip. He thinks it describes him perfectly and he wouldn’t change a thing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send me your thoughts on twitter @candourlines or tumblr as brokenveinssay.tumblr.com  
> love you all <3

**Author's Note:**

> I blame (thank) Catfish and the Bottlemen for this entire story. The title, "Twice", is stolen from their song "Twice".


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